I'm Right Here
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: Season 4: "All we are, all that we say we are, all that we are certain about, is taken away from us."
1. Misinformation

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. The phrase used in the summary is taken from the episode "Ties That Bind." Some of the chapter titles are taken from the lyrics of "Broken" by Amy Lee, from culinarycricket's montage. AU regarding the events from the _Demetrius_ and the episode "Guess What's Coming to Dinner." In my version of things, Gaeta was never shot.

I'm Right Here

Chapter 1: Misinformation

The admiral, the president, her aide, the colonel, and Lee sat in the dim room behind a long, smooth black table, listening to the Cylon Natalie. The face was like the Cylon in the brig, but for some reason the hair color was different, more of a honey-blonde instead of a bleach-blonde. "We'll leave tomorrow. We only want to borrow some of your pilots to help us blow it up after we unbox the Three's," Natalie requested.

Adama folded his hands, looking from Lee to Roslin and then back to the Cylon. "What guarantee can you offer that they won't be harmed?"

"I suppose we could leave some of our people over here as collateral. Do you want Sam Anders back?" she offered.

Lee leaned toward Roslin and Adama. "Kara nearly shot him already when she found out what he was on the baseship," he whispered.

"What exactly did he do?" Tigh asked.

"He used their controls to help get the ship back to the fleet because it was damaged," Lee explained quietly.

The president turned toward the leader of the rebel Cylons. "Him you can keep."

Natalie sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "Very well. And the Resurrection Hub? If we blow it up, you won't harm the rebel Cylons?"

"You have my word no one will be harmed," Adama finished.

Later the group reconvened in Adama's quarters without Natalie. "I still think we can't trust any of them, especially her model," Roslin mentioned.

Adama paced slowly as Tigh and Lee took chairs. Tory stood by the door. The others did not notice the worried glances passing between Tory and Tigh. "Right now we don't have much of an ultimatum. Somehow the Three can point out the Final Five and they're supposed to show us where Earth is. It all sounds like a crock to me, but then again Kara seems to think this will work."

Lee cleared his throat. "Has anyone seen her lately?"

"I think you might try Joe's Bar," Tigh recommended.

The younger man stood. "Considering what she's just been through, someone should check on her."

Bill smiled at his son's concern. "Dismissed."

He chuckled. "I don't work for you anymore, sir."

Despite the gravity of their plight, Laura smirked. "Actually in a way I believe you work for me now. Dismissed."

"Yes, ma'am," Lee responded before heading out of the hatch.

His father's gaze lingered on the door after he had gone. "I know he has his problems, but he's a good kid, and he's only trying to do the right thing."

She sighed. "If only 'the right thing' didn't consist of undermining me at Quorum meetings." Roslin glanced toward Tory to see her aide yawn. "I suppose it is late. We could all do with some sleep."

"Agreed," Tigh remarked.

After he left, Roslin and Tory stood at the hatch. Bill walked over to them. "You know, there's still room for you in one of my beds."

Laura grinned at his attempt to keep her there. "As much as I'd like to take you up on that offer, I've got some files to sort out before tomorrow's Quorum meeting that were left on _Colonial One_. Goodnight, Bill."

He smiled back. "Goodnight, Laura." And then he added, "Tory" belatedly.

Adama's morning shift started off just fine, for about five minutes. Then the other baseship appeared on the DRADIS. "Sir, we've got another Cylon ship, and it's charging weapons. I don't think this one's friendly."

The admiral grimaced. "Put me through to the rebel baseship. Listen up over there. This is Admiral Adama. The other Cylons have shown up, so I hope you have a plan for this, other wise I'm sending out my people."

A Six's voice replied. "We are preparing to fight back, but we would welcome the assistance."

Adama called for the pilots to be ready, then looked up at the DRADIS and noticed other dots moving around. "Lieutenant Dualla, what are those?"

She studied them and then looked back at the viewscreen, her eyes widening. "Sir, it's morning shuttle traffic! We've got to tell them there's a battle."

The admiral reached for the wireless again. "Attention all ships, this is the admiral. Another Cylon ship has appeared and we are arming for battle. I want all shuttle traffic to stop and either dock or find a larger ship to hid behind until you can dock. All shuttle traffic needs to stop."

He put down the wireless and looked back at the colonel. "Somethin' tells me this is gonna be a mess no matter what," Tigh stated.

"That's for sure," Adama replied.

The battle began, weapons fire volleying between the Vipers and Cylon ships. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, Adama spotted a civilian ship. "Dee what ship is that?"

"Sir, it's the transport shuttle from _Galactica_. It was heading for the _Astral Queen_ before the battle. Looks like they've resumed course," she answered.

"What the hell are they thinking?" Tigh demanded.

"Contact them. I want to talk to whoever's in charge," Adama ordered. Dee did as he asked and he picked up the wireless. "Transport shuttle, you are entering a battle zone. You are endangering everyone aboard your ship. You are ordered to stay put."

The only response he received was a muted conversation between two people that sounded like "Frak, he's pissed now. Keep flying, we'll handle it later. We should do what he says. There's no time, just keep going before we're exposed." Then the transmission cut.

"Does anyone know who's supposed to be on that ship?" Adama asked.

"Actually sir, I believe that's Zarek's transport. He'd be on it, as well as the other Sagittarian representatives, and possibly anyone working with him," Lieutenant Gaeta pointed out.

Adama thought for a moment and then figured out a Plan B. "Galactica Actual to Starbuck, do you copy?"

"Copy that, sir. Starbuck here."

"I need you to intercept that transport. It's moving into the crossfire zone," the admiral requested.

The battle continued as he received another transmission from her. "Sir, whoever's flying that thing really wants to get to the _Astral Queen_. They keep trying to pass me."

"Just stay with them, Starbuck," the admiral responded.

On the viewscreen, the admiral could make out the Viper chasing the transport. Suddenly the inevitable happened. The two baseships, while aiming at each other, shot the transport.

Over the wireless, Starbuck screamed "No!"

It did not blow up thought as Adama had expected it to. There only seemed to be a green fog around it. He reached for the wireless. "Galactica Actual to Starbuck, what just happened?"

He could not make out the unfamiliar sounds he heard. "I can't hear you. Starbuck, report!"

On the viewscreen, the other Cylon ship had been disabled and was blowing up in places. The rebel Cylons decided to jump and begin their other mission toward the Hub. "Why isn't she answering?" Tigh wondered.

"I don't know, but we're going down there to find out," Adama remarked, motioning for Tigh to join him as he headed to the docking bay.

Reaching his destination, Adama watched as a few Vipers were brought in, towing the transport. As he passed by a few technicians, he noticed them shaking their heads at the transport. "Rescue mission would be useless," one of the orange-suited men stated.

The other man sighed, watching the ships. "Yeah. I hear death was instantaneous."

Adama was about to comment when he spotted a familiar flash of blonde hair as a black helmet was removed. He sauntered over to Kara and the two men were quickly forgotten.

Kara stepped out of her Viper on the verge of tears. She froze, seeing Adama. "What happened out there, Starbuck?"

"I'm sorry, sir. They're gone," she choked. Avoiding eye contact with him, she dashed off, almost knocking people out of her way.

"What is going on around here?" Adama wondered aloud. He looked over his shoulder to see the colonel talking with one of the deck hands, handing him a clipboard. Tigh nodded and walked back over to Adama.

"Do we know what the Cylons hit yet?" the admiral questioned.

"They scraped the engines, but the stray weapons fire did more damage to the passengers than to the ship. Bottom line is that they shot the windows out," Tigh explained, walking as he spoke.

"Death by exposure," Adama concluded, standing outside the door of a storage room. He glanced at the clipboard. "Is that the roster?"

The colonel sighed heavily. "Yeah. We might want to finish this conversation in here."

Adama shrugged and followed Tigh into the storage room. He waited patiently as the other man closed the hatch. Crates of Viper and Raptor parts composed the room. Both men stood in silence for a moment until Adama decided that they had taken enough time for this already. "Who's on the list, Saul?"

Tigh slowly handed the clipboard to Adama. "You might want to sit down before you read that."


	2. Collateral damage

Warning: major character death

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 2: Collateral Damage

Laura Roslin paced in the cramped space between her bed and her desk for what felt like the fiftieth time. "Why won't someone give me answers?"

Tory watched her boss from one of the chairs. "It's been half an hour. Maybe we should try calling _Galactica_ again."

The president nodded and picked up the phone. After being asked to wait a while longer, Colonel Tigh's voice was heard. "Galactica, Tigh here."

_Where in the universe is Bill?_ "Colonel, I would like to know what's going on. Did the rebel ship leave? Is the fleet still in trouble?" she probed.

"The other Cylons have been destroyed and yes, the rebel ship left. The fleet is safe," he told her.

She drummed her fingers on the desk. "Then where is the admiral?"

"Madame President, Why don't I meet you at _Galactica's_ docking bay and explain everything?" he suggested, as if he had been expecting her comment.

Roslin glanced at Tory, who shrugged. "Alright Colonel, I'll be right there."

Shortly, her Raptor docked on Galactica. Tigh stood by as she stepped off. Then he motioned for her to follow him. She rolled her eyes and Tory accompanied her. "Saul, how long are you going to continue this cloak-and-dagger affair before you tell me what in Pythia's name is going on?" Roslin whispered sharply.

He stopped walking in front of a door that was all too familiar to Laura. She tried to look at him instead of the door as he answered, even as revulsion for their location boiled in her stomach. "There was a civilian transport caught in the crossfire. They were headed to the _Astral Queen_ and disobeyed orders to wait until the battle was finished to continue their trip. The windows were hit and all thirty people onboard died."

"Exposure?" Roslin asked.

Tigh nodded. "They were also carrying some illegal substances."

"That's probably why they didn't want to wait," Tory concluded.

"I want a full write-up on that. We need to know exactly what they were carrying and whom it was going to," Roslin requested.

"Yes, ma'am," Tigh replied. The colonel glanced at the door and then back to Roslin. Something about his gaze made him look ten years older. "If you'd follow me…"

"Tory, please stay out here," the president requested before following him.

For a morgue, it did not smell like death, but rather the odor was antiseptic, more like a combination of Life Station and formaldehyde. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she recalled that the temperature was lower in the room, much like a refrigerator. She looked around and saw several shrouded forms laid out on tables. Tigh glanced at a tag and pulled back the sheet hiding the head. "Tom," Roslin said quietly.

"We think he might've been behind the smuggling, but you can't prove much, seeing as he's dead. Bill and I caught part of a conversation about it," Tigh remarked.

She nodded and followed him as he navigated past a few more bodies. "Where is he, Saul? Obviously he's not here."

Tigh glanced at another tag, a forlorn look settling in his eye that made Roslin all the more uncomfortable. "Look at this one and you'll understand."

Glaring at him with momentary irritation, she turned toward the body, slowly reaching for the sheet. As she touched the material, the tip of her finger brushed the person's hair and she suppressed a shiver. Memories of finding Billy in the morgue were spilling out of the mental file she had placed them in. _I hate this place. Why did he have to bring me here?_

She pulled back the sheet and gasped. "No! This can't be right!" she exclaimed, wheeling around to find Tigh. "He can't be dead!"

A tear trickled out of the man's lone eye. "I'm afraid it is, Laura."

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the body. _How unfair the gods were to kill him without leaving a mark on him_, she thought as tears pricked her eyes. Even at his worst, the man before her could be called an almost-son. She pulled the sheet back over and wiped her eyes.

"Why was he on that transport?" she asked weakly.

"Probably had something to do with Zarek and politics," Tigh muttered.

Then she remembered why she had come to _Galactica_. "I have to find Bill. Where is he?"

"Should be in his quarters," Saul replied.

Laura rushed out of the door, almost bumping into Tory. "Madame President, where are you going?"

"I have to speak with the admiral," was her only answer. Tory decided that waiting in CIC with the colonel was a better use of her time than chasing the president at that moment.

As Laura rushed toward the admiral's quarters, her thoughts bounced in a thousand directions as she tried to figure out something to say to the man. What was there to say for such a tragedy? Tears continued to slip down her face as she moved along the corridors, disregarding the concerned stars of the people around her as her security detail trailed behind. Nothing she could say would change the fact that Lee Adama was dead.

(My thanks to carolann, voodooDRUG, mscrwth, Ms.McGonagall, Mariel3, SNa9oABC, and Leliana McKay for reviewing :D)


	3. I wanna hold you high

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 3: I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

Laura's intended direction had been Bill's quarters, but a blonde figure in a small room converted into a temple caught her eye. Kara Thrace sat on the floor sobbing, as if there was no way to quench the waterfall of tears. Laura took the detour and walked over to the younger woman.

"Kara, I know about the transport," she began.

The blonde looked up at her. "I was in the Viper and I couldn't block the Cylons. Nobody on that transport had a chance!"

Placing a hand on Kara's shoulder, Laura spoke calmly. "Some things are out of our control. And I'm so sorry about Lee."

Kara stood abruptly. "You don't know anything. It's my fault he's dead."

The older woman shook her head. "No, it's not. Even Bill wouldn't blame you. Have you spoken to him yet?"

"How can I?" Kara stated, turning her back and crossing her arms. "It's my fault that his last son is dead."

Laura decided to pull out the president. "Captain Thrace, will you listen to reason for one minute? It was the Cylons that-"

"You don't get it. It was my fault he was on that frakking transport!" Kara shouted, running out of the room.

Laura took a deep breath and rubbed her temples before resuming her course toward Bill's quarters. She hesitated before knocking on the hatch. Receiving no answer, she gave it a slight push and found it open. Slipping inside, she closed it behind her. The light at his desk glowed dimly, like the last beacon of hope. Past the lamp sat an open bottle of Ambrosia, mostly full. His desk chair was empty, so she turned toward the couch, quietly slipping out of her shoes.

The man sat slumped forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, turning a glass in his right hand, staring at the amber liquid instead of drinking it. As she slowly approached him, he looked up at her and set his drink down, the redness in his eyes matching hers. No words were needed. She joined him on the couch, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. As his arms found their way around her waist, they held each other, letting the silence consume their grief.

She had lost track of time, of little facts such as the one that there was a fleet away from Bill Adama with more business to tend to. The numb shock of his son's death seemed to hold him the prisoner of inaction for the moment. The phone rang, startling them both. She carefully extricated herself as he let her go. She reached the phone and found Tory on the other end. After a brief conversation, she turned back to him.

"Bill, I have a Quorum meeting that I can't miss. They're going to pick another vice president. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can," she told him.

He walked her to the door, but took her hands in his before she could leave. "Go. This is something important that you need to be part of. I'm not going anywhere."

She placed her hands on his chest after he let her hands drop. Forcing herself to look into his eyes again, she tried to convey through her own the words she could not say. _I want to stay with you. You're more important than they are_.

His eyes conveyed the pain he was in, the feeling of falling for days and still not hitting bottom, the feeling of giving up. She saw death in his eyes and looked away. Then she exited the hatch and found Tory waiting for her.

The meeting was finished in three hours, which was two hours and fifty-nine minutes longer than she had wanted it to be. If she had left the meeting any faster at its close, there would have been burns on the carpet from the bottom of her shoes. Tory ran to keep up with her as she headed for the Raptor.

"Madame President," Tory began, breathing heavily, "is there some reason we couldn't just walk over here?"

"I have to get back to the admiral," she replied. No pretense was needed, nor was it even considered.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, you can't just dash back to Galactica to check on him," her aide commented.

"He's lost his son," Laura replied, as if that explanation was the only answer left in the universe.

Tory took a deep breath. "Madame President, Laura, so have a great many other people." She paused and looked around to make sure that no one else might be listening to their conversation. "I know you care about him, but you can't just drop everything and go to him. With one fleet leader incapacitated, at least temporarily, and a new vice president, the fleet's remaining leader can't afford to just disappear."

Roslin sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "You're right, Tory. I need to keep a clear head in all this." Resuming her presidential composure, Roslin attended four other meetings scheduled for the afternoon while her mind strayed to Bill Adama, her heart breaking for his loss.

(A/N: I do send review replies to all of you that I am able to. If you have not received them, it is from technical difficulties).

(My thanks to Mamabella, carolann, Ceridwyn2, airam4u, Leliana McKay, Mariel3, voodooDRUG, Ms. McGonagall, and BossaNovaBaby24 for reviewing :D)


	4. I keep your photograph

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 4: I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well

Roslin had finished dinner with one of the Virgonese representatives when Tory told her that she had a meeting with the Board of Education. "Is there a particular reason that they're holding it so late?"

Tory shrugged. "I suppose they wanted to wait until school was out. The school schedule has two shifts that overlap. The later shift would have just ended."

Standing, Laura shook her head. "No Tory, I'm not going to this. I am done for today."

"But ma'am, you have to keep up appearances," Tory argued.

"Right now I have to get back to Bill. I should never have left him alone," Laura volleyed.

The aide sighed. "I'll reschedule with them."

"Thank you," the older woman responded before darting over to the Raptor.

She found the admiral's quarters unlocked and stepped inside quietly. The desk caught her eye as papers littered it like a forest floor in a disorganized mess. She sighed and walked over to it, quickly rearranging the papers into piles. _We'll sort through those later_, she told herself. Then she saw the Ambrosia sitting on the coffee table. The amount of liquid had been diminished by almost half. She looked around the living room, not seeing him. _Wherever he is, he's probably a little drunk_.

As she turned her gaze to the floor, she spotted a broken picture frame lying between the coffee table and the desk. Carefully she picked it up, letting the loose glass fall into the wastebasket. The frame itself had split at two of the corners, as if that was where it had landed. When she saw the picture, a few stray tears landed on her cheeks. It was of a much younger Bill Adama and two boys, who could be no other children except for his sons. _Oh Bill, what have you done?_ She swallowed and set the picture, as well as the damaged frame, back on the desk.

The sleeping area was vacant, but just as she was about to conclude that he had gone elsewhere, she heard the sound of water running, emanating from the bathroom. She raced over and flicked on the light switch. She could see him washing off his left hand, jacket unbuttoned. Looking just beyond him, she saw the mirror. From a point of impact, it splintered out like the roots of a tree, only as she made the comparison in her mind, she acknowledged that this tree was dying. It was him. And he was dying inside, a little piece of him at a time.

"Bill," she said softly, walking over to him. "Let me get that."

She checked a few drawers and quickly found the gauze. Then she gently patched the cuts on his hand with salve before wrapping the hand. She brushed her thumb over the top of it before releasing his hand to him. He leaned forward, propping himself up with his good hand. She lightly touched his back. The smell of Ambrosia lingered around him like a small cloud, but she was more concerned with the slump of his shoulders and the empty look in his eyes than the alcohol.

"He's gone, Laura," Bill stated hoarsely as an onslaught of tears threatened to overwhelm him. "My son is dead."

_I wish 'I'm sorry' didn't sound so hollow_. "I know, Bill. Saul brought me to the morgue," Laura mentioned, looping her arms around his neck, as if to hold him together.

The arm he was using to hold himself up was shaking slightly. "I don't know what to do. I can't even look at his picture. Why keep going anymore?"

She turned so that both of her hands made their way to his face. "You're leading the people to Earth."

He shook his head, stepping past her, pausing to lean against the doorframe of the bathroom. "That's your job."

"No, that's _our_ job," she corrected.

Staggering to the bed, he sank down onto it, crumpled forward, and placed his head in his hands. "I can't do it anymore."

She had expected this, a collapse of sorts. In front of her sat the ruins of a man, not only a leader, but a man who had found a special place in her heart. His form shook with sobs, each like an earthquake sending cracks up through the building's structure. Slipping out of her shoes, she curled up next to him, her tears leaking out as well while she grasped his left arm and pressed herself closer to him.

"Bill, listen to me. No matter what, the fleet still needs you. But I didn't come here to talk you back into your job. I came here so that you know I'm right here. And I intend to stay right here as long as it takes for you to be able to stand again," she explained.

"Laura, you don't have to-"

"Later. We'll talk more later. Right now you're going to bed," she informed him, standing to remove his jacket. He complied, being still sober enough to untie his boots. She removed them as he lied down on his side. "Sleep."

Reaching his linen closet, she found an extra blanket and brought it over to the couch, deciding to stay the night in case he needed something. She sat down on the couch and glanced down, realizing that she still wore her blouse and skirt. _I can't sleep in these. Maybe he won't mind if I borrow a pair of sweats, _she concluded, heading over to his dresser. Having spent time living with him before, she had figured out basically where everything was. She headed into the bathroom and changed.

"Why is the universe letting everything that he loves die?" she wondered aloud. Before leaving the bathroom, she spotted his razor. _He wouldn't, would he? I'd better ere on the side of caution_, she decided, hiding the razor in a drawer. She hid a few more sharp objects before draping her other clothes over the desk chair and setting her wig aside. Seeing the mess of files again, she felt the need to help him as much as possible and decided to sort the files. Then she curled up on the couch to sleep half an hour later.

Some time in the morning she heard the sound of someone retching. Blinking as she sat up, the next sound that reached her ears was gargling before more water running. She hastily grabbed her wig and secured it in place. The last thing she wanted was for him to see the specter of death that followed her.

Boots, pants, undershirts, aside from his uniform jacket, he looked as though he was preparing to go to work, despite having a slight hangover. "This is no way to start a morning. Where is the frakking razor? How is a man supposed to shave without a razor?" he growled.

Clearing her throat, she entered the bathroom. "I moved it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Pulling one of the drawers under the bathroom counter open, she handed him the razor. "I hid other sharp objects too." She paused as he lathered the shaving cream on his face. "Bill, when I looked into your eyes yesterday, I saw death looking back and it scared me. I didn't want you to- to do something you couldn't take back."

She listened to the soft scrape of the razor against his skin as he spoke. "First off, men don't usually go for razors. And second, despite my personal life, I'm still the admiral of this fleet. Too many lives depend on me to do that job. Saul hasn't been himself lately and I'd rather not dump everything in his lap like that."

_And thirdly, I need you_, her mind supplied. She studied him, realizing that despite the intense pain he was in, he had put himself in automatic mode for the morning. _He'll be able to hold it together, at least until the service_, she reassured herself. "They'll want a service."

He stopped rinsing off the razor to look at her reflection. "I know."

"I'll help you. We'll work through it together," she added.

Setting the razor back in its usual place, he turned to face her. "I should thank you for last night," he began, glancing down at his bandaged left hand. "I take it this was your handiwork?"

She nodded, also looking at the hand. _I guess he was more drunk than I realized_. Somehow it stood as a metaphor for the previous evening. She had come to help him and hold him together. "It was nothing."

"That's not true. You didn't have to come back. The fact that you came to see me at all yesterday was comforting, but then you stuck around. Thank you," he conveyed.

"You're welcome," she said with a warm smile.

"And you really didn't have to stay the night, though that pair of sweats looks better on you than it ever did on me," he mentioned wryly.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and giggled. "I didn't want to sleep in my suit, so I didn't think you'd mind if I borrowed a few things. I was worried about you, so I stayed in case you needed anything."

"Well then Madame President, I suggest you hop into the shower before your aide shows up and asks why you're not ready," he advised, stepping out of the bathroom.

Grabbing her clothes from the previous day, she sashayed passed him, saying "Yes sir. Okay sir. Anything you say, sir."

He shook his head and she turned to see him grinning at her. "I'll order up some coffee."

"Sounds good," she responded. As she prepared for her shower, she knew that while things were far from okay, he was at least willing to let her help.

(My thanks to Ms. McGonagall, Leliana McKay, voodooDRUG, Mariel3, Mamabella, carolann, and BossaNovaBaby24 for reviewing :D)


	5. I don't feel right

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 5: I don't feel right when you're gone away

Roslin had spoken with the press on appointing the new vice president, Mr. Cornelius Garfeld of Picon. The meeting had taken two hours, with Mr. Garfeld himself fortunately able to handle most of the questions that the press threw at him. Though middle-aged, his tall, skinny, almost gangly appearance reminded her of a teenager. Messy brown hair and black-rimmed glasses seemed to be other staples for him. He had a natural wit with the press that she had to admire.

"Mr. Garfeld, is it true that you have never made war-time decisions in your previous political experience?" a woman in a too-tight blue dress in the front row asked.

"Miss Cambel, it's hard to make decisions for scenarios that come in stints between forty-year hiatuses," he replied.

"What about your marriage before the attacks, why did your wife leave you?" a stout woman asked.

He sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. "These questions you're asking me relate to a life that no longer exists. Where were all of you before the attacks? Are any of us the same people we were before the attacks? Why don't you people ask me about something that really matters?"

A man in a dark red suit toward the back stood. "On New Caprica, you supported the resistance. Since we are apparently cooperating with the Cylons for the moment, how will your experience in the resistance help our current situation?"

Garfeld slowly smiled. "Finally, something relevant. I feel that though we should be careful and not turn our backs to them, there is room for negotiation if indeed they truly are rebelling against the other Cylons. President Roslin has made the appropriate decisions in this matter."

As the meeting ended, Garfeld walked over to Roslin. "How did I do?"

She smiled politely. "You did well. And I thank you for your support."

"If government leaders won't support each other, what does that teach our people? Working together is essential for survival," he remarked.

"Well said. Are you able to make the next Quorum meeting?" she inquired as they walked toward the door.

He sighed, stopping in the doorway. "Unfortunately I've got a conflict resolutions class I've been teaching since the attacks that I have yet to train someone else for. I need three days, if it's not too much of an inconvenience."

She shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. "I'm glad to hear we have such a class. Good things like that seem to slip through the cracks. Go ahead and find someone to take your place."

"Thank you," he stated, quickly shaking her hand and dashing out of the door.

Roslin smiled, watching him for a moment before heading to CIC. She found the admiral 'directing traffic' as she liked to put it, giving orders in CIC as the fleet prepared for a systems check. _If there's one thing to be said about the military, it's that routine gives a day some sense of order. Running on auto-pilot is letting him hide for a while_, she observed, stepping down over to him.

He gave her a nod. "How did the press conference go?"

"Surprisingly very well. Mr. Garfeld handled the press much better than I was expecting him to," she commented.

"Maybe he'll do a better job than Zarek did," Bill mentioned.

"I might have actually found a politician that I can get along with," Laura told him with a grin.

He leaned closer to her. "I think Hades just froze over and Baltar confessed to being a woman."

She clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent the burst of laughter from sneaking out. When she regained her breathing, she faced him. "I think you missed your calling. You'd have made a good comedian."

"Only when it comes to punch lines," he responded, looking out at the viewscreen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a marine approached Tigh, handing him a folded piece of paper. The colonel walked over to Adama. "I've had security teams looking for whoever was behind the illegal stuff being taken to the Astral Queen," he whispered.

Adama and Roslin moved closer to him. "What have you found?" the president asked.

"It was some kind of euphoric narcotics they had. A man named Dino Fife ordered 'em," Tigh explained. "We're still tracking him down."

"Keep me posted," the admiral replied. While the fleet would undergo a systems check, the Viper pilots could be seen in a training session. Adama watched the flight maneuvers as the Vipers dipped and turned.

Laura noticed that suddenly his shoulders sagged and he sighed heavily. When she placed a hand on his forearm, he jerked his head toward her, as if forgetting that she was there for a moment. "Admiral, there is a matter that requires your attention," she began, inclining her head ever so slightly toward the control room where they had shared other discussions. He nodded and followed her.

When the door was shut, she faced him, seeing the haggard expression that she had seen the previous day. "What were you thinking about before I interrupted you?"

Folding his hands in front of him, he let out a long sigh. "I was remembering the situation we had with the water, back at the beginning of our journey. Starbuck had been injured, and Lee had to lead the mission so that we could refill our water reserves."

She stepped closer toward him, smiling warmly. "He did well that day."

"I had loaned him my father's lucky lighter for good luck," he paused, closing his eyes for a moment. "Perhaps if I had just given it to him yesterday, or-"

"Bill, it's just a lighter. Lucky or not, it's just a lighter and it wouldn't have made a difference," she commented.

He swallowed, attempting to keep his tears at bay, knowing that the crew could see him as well as the president from where they stood. "I know."

She gestured toward a chair and he took it as she also sat down. "Shall we plan a service then?"

"I know you prefer the more religious format, but most of those people on that transport weren't very religious," he reminded.

"Though I think that we should at least have the priestess do a blessing, I agree with you and I think that a service similar to your speech around the time of the attacks might be more fitting," she remarked.

"We should probably read off each name and say something about them, or find someone who can," he stated, averting his eyes.

"At least it won't have to be fleet-wide, unless you want it that way. The people onboard were either from the _Astral Queen_, or _Galactica_," she added. "The press will probably cover it anyway."

He folded his hands and sat back in his seat. "I'm not sure how else to request it, but I don't want the list in alphabetical order."

She nodded. "We can use the roster. That was done by when people signed in for the transport, wasn't it?"

"Yes. That sounds like a good idea," he conceded. He closed his eyes again and she leaned forward to find one of his hands. "It shouldn't be this way," he rasped.

"I know. It's against the natural order of things," she responded as a few tears sneaked through her defenses when she recalled Billy's death.

Adama slumped forward in his chair. "It's more than that. I should be the one in the morgue. You should be discussing the service with him, not the other way around." He stopped moving and sank back into the chair. "He'd have been fine if he'd stayed in the military. So many close calls over the years and he- a politician of all things."

"I thought he'd be safe there too. No one could've seen this coming," she told him, patting his knee.

"I tried so hard to see that he had a future," he paused to look at her. "We both did."

She crossed her knees, leaning forward as she rested one arm across her lab while the other elbow balanced in front, the connecting fist supporting her chin. "Yes we did. And the bitter irony is that the future is left to the old and the dying."

"Don't say that," he stated, furrowing his brow.

_Well that was stupid. He's got enough to deal with, losing his son, and then you remind him that you're dying_. "Poor choice of words. I was speaking about my own regrets, and my misgivings about our journey at the moment," she expressed, sitting straighter.

"You don't have to walk on egg shells with me, Laura. It's not fair to you if I don't let you say your peace," he told her.

She shifted in her seat. "I'm trying to help you."

He gave her a calm smile. Then he stood and offered his hand to her. "You are."

After he had made the announcement about service time, he returned to his quarters with Laura following him, deciding to work on what he wanted to say. As he passed his desk, he noticed the broken picture of his boys looking up at him. "I don't think I can do it, Laura."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"I can't send him out into space. It feels more wrong than the whole situation," he admitted.

"Then don't. Wait until we get to Earth and bury him there," she suggested, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He agreed and two hours later they stood in the hanger bay, ready to perform the funerary service for the twenty-nine caskets before them. Caskets covered and lying out before him, the admiral looked past them into the crowd. More had come than was expected, squeezing in closely. He rested a hand on the podium and glanced over his shoulder. Behind him stood the president, along with those whom they had asked to speak on behalf of some of the thirty passengers who had died.

Roslin watched him closely for any sign that he might not be able to accomplish the task. Despite what only she could see in his eyes, he stood solidly, still managing to appear unflappable. A small smile sneaked across her mouth, pride for him as he spoke.

"We have come far in our journey, learning about survival and cooperation. We have fought countless times for survival and endured. However, it is on days like today that we are called to remember that survival has a cost. Today we remember the recent tragedy and the thirty passengers it carried. The first we remember is Vice President Zarek," he orated, looking over to Roslin.

She stepped over to the microphone. "Tom Zarek came to us as a terrorist with a more than checkered past. Yet he proved himself to be reliable through circumstances such as those on New Caprica. He also proved himself to be an avid politician…"

Roslin had purposely left out his possible involvement in the smuggling of illegal substances on the transport, deciding that such a revelation would serve no purpose. The list continued as a few others spoke about their friends. For each name one person was appointed to speak for the deceased.

Lee Adama's name appeared three fourths of the way down the list. Bill cleared his throat, keeping his stoic façade safely in place. "Leland Adama served as _Galactica's_ CAG, as captain, as commander of the _Pegasus_, and as a damn good pilot. He didn't back down from confrontation. He had a sense in him of what the right thing to do in a given situation was, and he applied that sense to his life, even if doing the right thing to him meant going against his own father. Despite our conflicts, he-" Bill paused, his eyes drifting down to the podium and Laura stepped closer to him as he continued, "he was a son any father would've been proud of."

She could see the cracks in the calm expression that he had schooled his features into before the service. As he swallowed, she noticed an almost imperceptible twitch in his shoulders as the loss he felt began to leak through. Knowing how close he was to the breaking point, she gently rested a hand on his back. He faced her and gave her a nod as they switched places and she spoke to the crowd.

"As Mr. Adama pursued the right thing as a soldier, he also tried to do the same thing in the political arena, seeking out justice. He had the courage to challenge justice, even if the questions he asked made others uncomfortable," she added.

After all thirty people had been remembered, the priestess gave a blessing and the caskets were shot out into space. No one bothered to count them. At the close of the service, Adama avoided everyone, slipping away toward a side door. Roslin caught up with him, but was stopped as Tory tugged on her sleeve.

"Madame President, you still have a few things scheduled today. That service took three hours of our time. There is a Quorum meeting with issues that need your attention," the aide reminded.

Laura opened her mouth to protest, but then sighed. "Just give me a minute." The aide nodded as Laura tapped Bill on the shoulder. "I have something I can't get out of. I'll see you later."

"It's alright, Laura. I understand," he told her, walking away again.

As she turned back to join Tory, she collided with a familiar blonde pilot. "I'm so sorry, Madame Prez," Kara stated, grasping the president's forearm so that she did not fall.

"I'm fine, Kara," she reassured the younger woman.

"Tell the Old Man that it was a good service?" Kara requested.

Laura smiled warmly. "Why don't you tell him yourself? You'd both feel better if you would talk about this together."

Kara sniffed and shook her head. "I can't!" Then she dashed off before Laura could say any more.

Roslin found Tory and reluctantly proceeded to the Quorum meeting. After two hours of discussing problems that, in Laura's opinion, someone else could have easily handled, the meeting drew to a close. "Well if that is the end of the list, we can call this meeting adjourned and be on our way," the president stated as she stood and moved to collect her folders.

The Gemonese delegate cleared his throat. "Do you have somewhere else to be, Madame President?"

She looked back at the chubby man with brown hair falling in his face. "As a matter of fact Mr. Hale, I do."

The curly-haired Virgonese woman spoke next. "Ma'am, does it have anything to do with the admiral?"

Roslin rested a hand on top of the folders and looked up calmly. "Just what are you implying, Ms. Gates?"

"You seem to be spending a lot of time with him lately, even rearranging the Quorum meetings. It makes a person wonder," Gates replied.

"I am ensuring that the military leader of this fleet is fit for duty. I think that might be a bit more important than the petty tripe we go over at some of these meetings," Roslin stated evenly.

The Leonese delegate, who always wore his brown suit to the meetings, felt compelled to comment. "Ma'am, with all due respect, I believe you've lost objectivity. One man doesn't outweigh concerns of fleet survival."

_Frak, I slipped there_. She took a deep breath and faced him. "Mr. Soto, I never meant to imply that he did. I simply meant that it is important to show him that people support him in his loss."

Mr. Hale stood. "We've all had losses since coming out here. One loss doesn't way any differently than-"

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Mr. Hale. You cannot understand the pain of losing your child," she interjected, remaining calm.

The man sat back down. "I see."

Roslin turned to Tory, who had taken the president's folders. As the two women made their way to the door, they were stopped by the Leonese delegate. "Just where are you sleeping, Madame President?"

She gave him the over-the-glasses glare. "I sleep in a bed, in a dark room."

"And where does the admiral sleep?" the man countered. "Are you sleeping with the admiral?"

Roslin blinked, wide-eyed at the man's audacity. She crossed her arms and looked away for a moment, finding a sense of calm before attempting to formulate a response. "Mr. Soto, that was an inappropriate question and I won't dignify it with a response. I'm sure this fleet has far more important things to spend their time and credits on than idle ships' gossip."

She left the room, not bothering to look back at the stunned expression the face of the Leonese delegate bore.

(My thanks to voodooDRUG, Mamabella, Ms. McGonagall, carolann, and Ceridwyn2 for reviewing :D)


	6. There's so much left to learn

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 6: There's so much left to learn

Laura came back to the admiral's quarters after the Quorum meeting to find him sipping a glass of Ambrosia as he slumped on the couch. She stepped out of her shoes and sank into the couch next to him, sighing heavily and closing her eyes. "Quorum meeting that bad?" he asked with a smirk.

"Worse," she remarked. He poured another glass from the bottle sitting on the coffee table and handed it to her. She took it and smiled in thanks.

"So who did you have to airlock?" he asked her. The stress of the day coupled with her fatigue allowed her to find the comment incredibly funny. She laughed heartily.

"I needed that. No, I didn't airlock anyone. They just got too damned nosy," she replied.

He took a gulp from his glass. "About what?"

She drank some of the amber liquid from her own glass. "They think I've lost objectivity regarding you."

Turning to face her, he set the glass down on the table. "It's a possibility."

Forgetting for a moment that it was a wig, she ran her fingers through her hair. "It's more than a possibility. I stupidly let something slip and all but said you're more important than the fleet."

He smirked and sat back against the couch. "That's where you stand with me too."

"Then I suppose we've both lost objectivity," she commented, her glass joining his on the table.

"What is objectivity anyway?" he mused.

She pulled her feet up on the couch and leaned into his shoulder before he put one arm around her. "It's the ability to pull away and look at the big picture instead of focusing on the smaller components," she told him. "I think in situations like the recent one's we've had, objectivity is impossible."

He drew her closer. "Part of me wishes I could get through this objectively. The service was supposed to provide some closure."

"It didn't. But you should've known that it wouldn't. Wasn't that the way it was with your other son?" she mentioned.

He sighed heavily before answering. "With Zack, there was so much blame in the family. And then I met Kara and lost a son to gain a daughter. This time there wasn't anything anybody could've done," he remarked, letting a few tears fall on his cheeks, not noticing that they were splashing onto her clothes.

"Bill," she moved to look into his eyes. "She hasn't come by to see you because she thinks it's her fault for some reason."

He shook his head. "It could never be her fault. The closest I can come to blaming anyone is to point a finger at the Cylons again, them and whoever was behind the smuggling."

They sat and held each other a while longer until she moved to stand. "It's late. We should go to bed."

He rose. "I'll just get the blanket again."

She reached out and held one of his hands in hers as she shook her head. "Come to bed, Bill."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you told the Quorum you weren't sleeping with the admiral."

She smiled. "It's late and we could both use a good night's sleep after a day like today. And technically I didn't confirm or deny anything."

Chuckling, he allowed her to lead him to the sleeping area. Each took their turn in the bathroom and they settled in his rack with him on the inside and her on the outside in case she needed to use the bathroom at night. She faced outward and one of his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a tease, Laura Roslin?" his voice rumbled.

She giggled. "Once or twice, but not in a long time."

Before she drifted off to sleep, she heard him whisper, "You're a tease," in her ear.

She was having a pleasant dream for once, walking along a beach in the heat of the day. No opera houses, Cylons, or hybrids, it was just a normal beach and she was hunting for seashells. _A large white conch washed up on the shore and she moved to pick it up, As she had done when she was a girl, she pressed it to her ear. However, instead of the airy sound she had expected to hear, she heard the buzz of the phone._

The buzzing continued as she blinked, the dream transforming into Bill's dark sleeping area. Carefully she sat up to see if he had heard the phone. He was softly snoring, oblivious to the universe. _Better to let him sleep_, she reasoned as she crawled out of the bed. Immediately she rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself as she headed for the phone in the bathroom.

A quick glimpse of the clock told her that it was only 0500. She lifted the phone to her ear and spoke softly. "Hello? This is the president. What do you need?"

"This is CIC. Is the admiral available?" Saul Tigh's voice asked.

_Thank goodness it's Saul_. "I'm afraid he isn't at the moment, but I am. Now what's this about?" she questioned.

"I've switched the line to a private one. If you don't mind me asking, why are you answering Bill's phone at this hour of the morning?" Tigh inquired.

She had an excuse easily on hand. "I was staying in the guest quarters and I was planning on meeting him for coffee. We had set up an early meeting to go over our schedules and a few other matters. But when I stopped by, I discovered that he was still asleep and I didn't have the heart to wake him. Now Colonel, the point of all this? If you called at five o'clock in the morning, then it must be important."

"You really should get him up. The Cylons are back," Tigh mentioned.

"Which ones?" she asked.

"The rebels. And they have D'Anna," he answered.

"I'll wake the admiral," she told him before hanging up the phone. She then crept over to Adama. "Bill. Bill, you need to get up," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

A yawn escaped his lips. "Laura? What's wrong?"

"Saul called. The rebel Cylons are back. I figured that I would go on ahead and you could join me after you got dressed," she admitted.

He sat up quickly, joints cracking into places. "What time is it?"

"Five-fifteen," she responded.

"Go on. I'll be there in ten minutes," he stated, rising to his feet and sauntering in the direction of the bathroom.

She made her way to CIC, nodding to Tigh when she stepped onto the lower deck. "He'll be along shortly," she told the colonel.

"Good. They wanna talk to us," Tigh mentioned.

"By all means. Let's hear what they have to say," Roslin responded.

The images of Natalie and an Eight appeared on the screen. Behind them stood D'Anna in a white bathrobe, and off to the far right was Anders. "Is Admiral Adama there?" Natalie asked.

"He'll be joining us shortly," Roslin responded.

D'Anna stepped out in front. "We've got nothing to say until he arrives."

At that moment, Roslin glanced over to the other side of the room, hearing a door shut. Adama stepped down into the lower deck. Then he looked from the president to Tigh. "Someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

(My thanks to Ceridwyn2, Mamabella, Mariel3, voodooDRUG, Thjazi, carolann, and Ms. McGonagall for reviewing :D)


	7. And no one left to fight

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 7: And no one left to fight

D'Anna smirked. "Well now, obviously the fact that I'm standing here should clue you in on the mission's success. The Hub is gone, as should be the other Cylons."

Roslin watched as Adama's shoulders tensed. "Let's not beat around the bush. Do you know who the Final Five are and what they have to do with Earth?" the admiral probed.

"I'll tell you if you let me come aboard the ship," D'Anna stated.

"I would accompany her," Natalie added. The two female Cylons exchanged glances and D'Anna glared at her for a moment before turning back to the viewscreen.

Adama looked over at Roslin. "Better our ship than theirs," the president whispered.

He nodded and faced the Cylons again. "We'll talk here."

As the viewscreen dimmed, Tigh walked past the admiral and the president as he met with two marines. They handed him a note. After reading it he turned back to the others. "We have Dino Fife in custody. He's been placed in a cell on the other side of the brig, not where the Cylon's staying," the colonel informed them.

Adama nodded. "I'll deal with him when this Cylon business is settled." Roslin noticed that his tone would have been the same if he had said 'I'll take the garbage out tonight.' _The man's set up a distance between himself and the criminal responsible for thirty deaths. I just hope he can stay level-headed later_.

Half an hour later, Adama, Roslin, and Tigh met in the conference room again. Everything was the same as it had been before, with the exception of D'Anna and the absence of Lee.

A silence had settled over the room as both sides seemed to engage in an awkward staring contest. _This is ridiculous_, Roslin thought to herself. She folded her hands on the table in front of her and spoke. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

D'Anna grinned snidely. "Alright then. Here's the deal I'm proposing. We both need the Final Five to get to Earth. The rebel Cylons just want a home. If you allow them to accompany you to Earth and we all work together, as Natalie here explained to me, I'll tell you one of the Five. The others need to reveal themselves."

Roslin raised a skeptical eyebrow. "We already know that Sam Anders is one of them. Tell us a new one and maybe we'll listen."

"Very well, but that's all you'll get from me," she retorted. Slowly she faced the colonel. "I must say I'm surprised that you haven't figured it out sooner. Colonel Tigh is one of the Final Five."

As the tow humans turned to look at Tigh, D'Anna smiled at their discomfort. Adama studied the man he had known for over thirty years. "Is this true, Saul?"

Tigh took a deep breath and nodded. "She's right. I'm a Cylon. Do what you have to do, Bill."

Adama clenched his right fist, then rose and called for the security team to arrest Tigh. After they had left, he stepped over to D'Anna. "I want you off my ship."

She scoffed. "I'm not one of your pilots that you can just order around."

Natalie leaned forward. "Perhaps it's for the best. He seems upset."

The last Three rolled her eyes. "Six, you've become a pacifist, pity."

"No, I just know when to back off," the other Cylon countered.

"Fine. Just know this, Admiral, the final Cylon is the last beacon to Earth and will awaken when the stars are right," the Three sneered.

D'Anna and Natalie left while Adama headed to the brig, followed closely by Roslin. "Bill. Bill, slow down."

He paused and let her catch up. "Sorry. I guess my mind was elsewhere."

"I know you're mad about Saul, and I wish I could make things better," she conveyed, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The defeat she saw in his eyes hurt almost like a physical ache in her chest as he sighed heavily. "I'm not sure how much more I can take. My son… that alone was bad enough, but having to deal with the Cylons again, and on top of that finding out that Saul… Laura I can't keep doing this."

Not caring if anyone saw at that moment, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. "We'll find a way Bill. We always will."

"I like the sound of 'we,'" his voice rumbled.

"Me too," she responded.

They resumed their walk to the brig, arms linked as had been their custom. Tigh had been placed in the cell next to Caprica Six, who stared in shock at the brig's new arrival. "Why is he in here?" she asked the admiral.

"Because he has something in common with you," Adama seethed.

She blinked in confusion. "I don't understand."

"He means I'm a skin job too," Tigh explained.

"One of the Final Five then?" she asked with a mixture of shock and amazement.

"Yep," he answered simply.

Sinking down into the cell bed, she crossed her arms and looked over at him slowly. "All this time and you didn't think to tell me?"

"It would've been inappropriate," he stated, not facing her.

"It wouldn't have made a difference, but it does explain a few things," Six mentioned tersely, turning her back to everyone.

"Frak, not this too," Adama muttered to Roslin, seeing the connection between his XO and the blonde Cylon prisoner.

Roslin stepped closer to him. "We should stick to the main situation for now," she whispered.

Adama moved back from her and paced in front of Tigh's cell. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to hurt you, or betray the fleet, so I kept quiet and did my job," Tigh answered.

"How long have you known?" Adama demanded.

Tigh sat down on the bed in his cell. "Since we entered the Ionian Nebula."

"Were you ever working for them?" Adama interrogated.

"No sir! I wasn't gonna work for any damned skin job! I'm still Saul Tigh, and that's who I'll be 'til the day I die," the colonel insisted.

"I need to think about this for a while. We're through here," Adama grumbled before turning to leave.

"Wait, Bill. We should ask him about the other Cylons," Roslin reminded. He nodded, letting her take over. She looked back at Tigh. "Who are the others if you and Anders are two of the Final Five?"

Tigh hesitated. "Laura, I don't think you want that answer."

She crossed her arms. "I think I do."

"Alright. The others are Galen Tyrol and Tory Foster," he stated.

Roslin could only stare at him, wide-eyed. "No, no you're mistaken."

"I'm sorry, but it's true. The four of us found out at the same time. We've been trying to live out our lives as normally as possible," he explained.

Security teams were called and half an hour later, Tyrol and Tory joined Tigh in the cell. Adama stood in front of Tyrol. "Galen, why didn't you say something?"

Tyrol's eyes were focused on the floor. "I just wanted to keep doing my job, sir."

"But you didn't do your job. Did you sabotage that Raptor?" the admiral drilled, recalling the Raptor that had malfunctioned and crashed on the deck.

The former chief shook his head adamantly. "Sir, I would never-"

"Who knows what you were programmed to do!" the admiral cut in.

Roslin stepped up, moving toward her aide. "Why?"

"Ma'am, if I had said something, you would've airlocked me," Tory defended.

"You three are staying here until further notice," Adama growled.

He and Roslin left the brig, their shoulders sagging in defeat. She glanced at her watch. "I'm due for a treatment. I know someone should keep an eye on CIC, so it's okay if you can't come with this time."

Gently he grasped her shoulders. "I'd rather be there with you, but you're right. I need to monitor the Cylon situation."

She nodded. "I still can't believe we've had so many Cylons right under our noses. However…" as she trailed off, he noticed the smirk.

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "What?"

"With Tory in the brig, my schedule after the treatment looks surprisingly free, so I'll be waiting for you when you get home," she explained.

He smiled back, then kissed her on the cheek. Too surprised to respond, she simply watched as he headed back to CIC. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and walked to Life Station. Cottle was waiting for her, arms crossed, tapping his foot. "You make it look like I'm late," she stated.

"Young lady, you are an hour late! You tell me you need this specific time slot, and then you don't show up. I was concerned about your health, so I called Colonial One. Since you weren't there I tried the admiral's quarters. No one picked up. Then I called CIC and you weren't there either," he grumbled.

Seeing him so blatantly perturbed at her for making him worry, she snorted. But then a full-fledged giggle erupted from her. He rolled his eyes and she heard a 'harrumph.' Regaining control of her breathing, she faced him. "I'm sorry. The last couple of days have been so rotten. And then you standing there, scolding me, was just too funny."

"Next time call me when you're gonna be late," he requested, setting up the IV. As the diloxin dripped into her veins, the events of the past few days, coupled with the side-effects of the treatment, caused fatigue to make itself present. She closed her eyes, drifting into an uneasy nap.

_She was back in the opera house, looking for Hera again. For an inexplicable reason though, she had the sudden desire to look up. Instead of the gold arched ceiling she had been expecting, she saw constellation arrangements. "Something's changed," she said aloud._

_"Hello? Is anybody here?" a new voice called from below her._

_Laura turned her attention to the ground level and watched the shadow of the speaker. She gasped when the shadow stretched out, allowing the person to come into view. It was Dualla._

(My thanks to Ms. McGonagall, carolann, Mamabella, Mariel, and Ceridwyn2 for reviewing :D)


	8. Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 8: 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

Laura sat up abruptly, trying to process her surroundings. She was still in Life Station. Cottle sauntered over to her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I just had a dream, that's all."

The doctor disconnected the IV. "You're to be back here tomorrow for tests, no excuses. I don't care if you find Earth. Am I clear?"

Laura smirked and saluted. "Clear as crystal, Major."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know how the Old Man puts up with you." She chuckled and stood to leave, but he stopped her at the door. "How's he holding up?"

"He's managing," she answered.

She entered the admiral's quarters and left her shoes by the door. The wig had become hot and scratchy, giving her incentive to remove it and exchange it for her dark green headscarf. Adama returned at the end of his shift to find her napping on the couch, her head resting on the back of the cushion, three files spread out on her lap, feet up on the coffee table.

He stepped over to her, reaching her face to stroke her cheek with his thumb. Sleepy eyes blinked up at him. "Hey," his voice rumbled.

"Hey. I must've dozed off reading the Quorum reports again. The math book I used to teach out of was much more riveting," she commented.

He laughed and shook his head, sitting next to her on the couch. "You should tell them to forget the grammar and use bullet points."

"Maybe," she responded, stretching in a feline manner.

"How was your treatment?" he inquired.

"I actually fell asleep. Jack wants me back tomorrow for a few tests," she mentioned.

Scooting closer to her, he asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"

She smiled warmly. "It's alright. You'd just be bored. How was the rest of your shift?"

"If you want to talk to me about boring, that's exactly what it was. It was so boring that I had people dozing off. I think though that part of it might be a problem with some recent shift changes that I'll have to look at when I have the time. I even had to wake Dee," he replied.

At the mentioning of Dee, Laura turned to face Bill directly. "I had a dream, about the opera house again."

"Same as usual?" he asked nonchalantly.

She shook her head. "No, and that's the problem. It was different. I looked up at the ceiling at saw constellations. The strange thing was that Lieutenant Dualla was there too."

Bill rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Are you telling me you think Dee's a Cylon?"

"I'm not sure what to think," Laura admitted.

He groaned and rolled his shoulders. "I'm beginning to wonder if there's anybody works for me who isn't a Cylon."

She scooted closer and placed a hand on his back. "I might be able to help with that."

"You wanna work for me?" he asked with an incredulous smirk.

Laura chuckled. "I meant that I could help you with your shoulders."

"In light of our current situation, that's the best suggestion I've heard all day," he remarked.

Then he reached over to unbutton his jacket, but her left hand stopped his. "Let me."

As he let his hands drop, she undid the buttons as she sat behind him. "What I said before still stands. You, Laura Roslin, are a tease."

She began to knead his shoulders and neck. "And you, Bill Adama, have a bigger collection of knots than you do books at the moment."

He nodded as she continued her ministrations. "You're good at this. If you ever get tired of being president, I'll hire you as my personal masseuse."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Very funny, mister. If I was your personal masseuse, you'd never let me leave your quarters."

"That's the idea," he stated, lifting one of her hands to kiss the top of it. As her eyes met his, she noticed that he had yet to release her hand. An intense sadness crept into his eyes as they traveled over her face. "I'm going to lose you too."

Swallowing back tears, she touched his face with her other hand. "Bill, listen to me. I'm right here, right here. I will not leave you willingly. I am fighting as best I can."

Before she could move back, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap before kissing her soundly. She returned the kiss fervently, resting her forehead against his when they ran out of air. He brushed his lips with hers softly. "Stay here again."

She grinned. "Under one condition, that you feed me dinner. I'm famished."

He chuckled and they slowly pulled apart. "I'll see what I can come up with."

The algae pasta was filling and the sauce complimented the meal. After dinner, the president and the admiral perused through a few more reports before Bill and Laura followed the same sleeping arrangement they had on the previous evening.

In the morning, Roslin made her schedule, taking note of meetings, being certain to pencil in her appointment with Cottle. She looked up, hearing the slight clunk of a mug as it was set down on the coffee table. "Thought you'd want a cup before dealing with politics," Bill commented.

Laura smiled appreciatively. "Thank you." She set the schedule down and lifted the mug to her lips. "Mmm, how did you find a new blend?"

"Being the admiral has its upside. The Board of Nutrition's been experimenting with ways to grow coffee beans using algae as part of the fertilizer mixture. The scientists are letting me test it, in exchange for a short write-up on how it tastes," he explained, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Why doesn't the president get perks like that?" she pouted.

He smirked. "Too high of a risk if it tastes bad. They aren't fond of airlocks, I guess."

She laughed and shook her head. "Am I really that intimidating?"

"You are to a Cylon," he answered.

Sighing, she set her mug back down. "Speaking of Cylons, what are you going to do about Dualla?"

He stared out in front of him. "I don't want to think that she could be one, but I can't dismiss the possibility. I'm thinking of telling her to get a physical, during which Jack can take a blood sample to test."

"And what will you do if she is one?" Roslin asked.

Setting his mug down next to hers, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Frankly I'd rather forget that I know and let this one go. I've trusted her with personal matters on more than one occasion, in return for an honest opinion. She's never let me down. That, and she was my daughter-in-law for a while."

Roslin rested one of her hands on top of his. "Maybe then we should just have her watched after the physical. Since I have to go in for a few tests, I'll just tell Jack what's going on so he'll know to take a blood sample."

"I don't like this one bit," he grumbled.

She raised an eyebrow. "And you think I do? My aide, whom I've placed probably far too much trust in, is a Cylon. It's ironic that the Final Five have been so integral to our lives in one way or another."

"That's what an enemy does, infiltrates and makes itself indispensable," he seethed. As he dashed off toward CIC, she sighed, knowing that if he was angry, his anger would cause him trouble. Gathering up her files, she made her way to the Quorum meeting.

(My thanks to SMCKI10, Ms. McGonagall, Mariel3, Mamabella, carolann, and voodooDRUG for reviewing :D)


	9. No more games

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 9: No more games

She survived the three-hour Quorum meeting in the boardroom, her new vice president proving to be a valuable ally. _The man holds his ground well under pressure_, she assessed. One of the Virgonese representatives kept harping on his need for more toothbrushes. Vice President Garfeld sat back in his chair.

"I respect the fact that you want to preserve good hygiene, but we really have more pertinent issues to look at. Would you rather discuss toothbrushes or tillium distribution?"

The representative was silent. Roslin suppressed a proud smile. Then a question was directed at her. "Madame President," a small woman from Picon began, "what are we going to do about the Cylons? They're just camping outside our window."

Roslin raised a hand, attempting to calm the woman. "Miss Bynes, the military is monitoring the situation closely."

"And what is the state of the military? Last time you implied, ma'am, that the admiral might be distracted due to his son's death," the woman drilled.

The president rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The admiral is continuing to look after the fleet and do his job despite personal circumstances. Now, could we please move on to the next item of interest?"

"Alright, let's say that the admiral is competent now. Are you as competent, ma'am? How are you so certain that the admiral will not let personal issues interfere? Is that because you're spending a great deal of time with him? And isn't it also true that you weren't on _Colonial One_ last night, again?"

Roslin stared at the woman incredulously. However, before she could speak, Garfeld stood. "This is the most irrelevant conversations I've ever sat through. To be quite frank, you're all daft to continue this tripe about the fleet's leaders when we have bigger problems. If she says the Cylon situation is under control, then the Cylon situation is under control and the lot of you should just shut up!"

The rest of the meeting when surprisingly well after Garfeld had given his speech. As Roslin prepared to leave, he caught her outside the door. "Where are you headed, Madame President?"

"I'm just going to Life Station for some tests," she replied.

"May I join you?" he requested. She nodded and they continued walking down the corridors. "I just wanted to tell you that they have no right to pry into your life like that, not when we have actual work to discuss."

Roslin smiled. "Thank you for sticking up for me."

"You're the president. If they don't like it then that's just too bad. People should be sticking up for you. With all the political jargon and interest groups, they've forgotten why they're sitting there in the first place!" Garfeld expressed.

_Where were you three years ago? I may actually have found an honest politician_. "You're too kind, Mr. Garfeld. Is there some new policy I don't know about that you want my help with?" she asked with a smirk.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Madame President, I just thought you could use a friend amongst all those over-grown children."

They parted ways and she stepped into Life Station. During her tests she explained the need to ask for Dee's blood during her physical. He agreed and she stopped in the mess hall for a quick algae sandwich before heading to CIC. She passed Dee in the doorway. The younger woman saluted before dashing past her.

Roslin wandered over to the lower deck. Adama gave her a polite nod before ushering her toward the glass area. "Looks like you might be right, about Dee. I asked her about the opera house and she admits to having the dream."

"It gives me no pleasure," she remarked, pacing the lower deck. _This is frakking ridiculous. Why not just say everyone's a Cylon? She doesn't even seem to know about it yet. Poor Bill. If only that baseship would go away_. As the wheels in her head began to turn, she headed back to Adama.

He raised an eyebrow. "What's on your mind?"

She glanced out a the baseship on the viewscreen before facing him. "Why don't we just tell the Cylons what we have? Whether we know or not, they don't need to hold anything over us anymore. I think it's time we called their bluff. What is the expression you use, rolling a hard six?"

The admiral jerked his head back to Helo. "Get me the rebel ship, now."

"Yes, sir," Helo acknowledged.

D'Anna's face appeared on the screen again. "What can we do for you today, Admiral? Let me guess, you want us to let you go off to Earth on your merry way. Not going to happen, so I hope that wasn't your request."

"What happened to Natalie?" he probed.

The Three smirked darkly. "She's a little tied up at the moment, so I'm the one taking calls."

Adama shot her a glare that would have petrified anyone else. "No more games!"

D'Anna giggled and crossed her arms. "But games are so much fun."

He formed a fist and for a second Roslin thought he was planning to hit the console, but then he took a deep breath and let the hand drop back to his side. "I don't think you understand. You see, things have changed a bit since you were on my ship."

"Oh? What did you do, find Earth?" she asked snidely.

He glanced at Roslin, then turned back to D'Anna. "We know who the last Cylon is, so the way I see it, I call the shots now."

The Three scoffed. "You're bluffing!"

Adama leaned forward, pressing his hands on the console. "Nope. Since you've lost your bargaining chip, there's no reason why I shouldn't just blow your ship back to Kobol."

D'Anna faltered, her gaze darting around the room. "What-what do you want?"

"Leave. Find your own home and don't bother us again," Adama replied.

Slowly she faced him, and smiled. "Alright, you win," she said before ending the transmission.

The baseship suddenly blinked out. Roslin looked over at Adama. "That was way too easy."

He nodded. "At least they're out of our way for a while."

"And what will you do with our portion of the Final Five?" she inquired, placing her hands on her hips.

Sighing heavily, he faced her. "I'd prefer to them go. Cylons or not, they're still family and I'm tired of losing family."

She nodded, not fully agreeing with him, but understanding as she looped one of her arms around his. _He would not jeopardize the fleet's safety_, she noted. _The Cylons will be watched_. Later she left him in CIC for a progress report from Cottle.

"Have a seat, young lady," the doctor instructed.

"What I need to know first is how the Cylon test went," she whispered, following his orders and sitting.

Cottle folded his hands in front of him. "She's one of 'em alright."

Roslin sighed. "I was afraid of that."

The doctor nodded. "Now back to you, don't give me that look. You and the admiral can handle her just fine. Your test results are what I wanted to show you," he explained, turning on the light to reveal her X-rays. "The tumor is shrinking. I can schedule you for surgery in three days and remove it. Of course I still recommend diloxin for a couple more weeks to ensure that the cancer's gone…"

She had not heard much past 'The tumor is shrinking' and a warmth filled her as a smile spread across her face. She left Life Station feeling lighter than she had in months. _I can't wait to tell Bill. Finally we have some good news._

On the way to the admiral's quarters, she felt like visiting the Observation Deck. She opened the door and looked over at the empty rows of seats, glad to be alone for the moment. But as she looked out upon the vast glittering portrait of stars, her gaze found a lone form seated on the floor. She cautiously walked up to the figure.

Kara Thrace sat on the hard floor, staring at her military-issue sidearm. _I seem to be destined to run into this woman while she's armed_, Laura thought. "Kara," she called.

The blonde woman abruptly looked up. "Madame President, you shouldn't be here right now."

Laura carefully approached her. "Kara, what are you doing?"

Kara stood, still staring at the gun. "I want to end it."

"What about Earth?" Laura asked, worry sneaking into her tone.

The other woman looked away. "It doesn't matter without Lee."

"You need to talk to Bill. This won't solve anything," Laura encouraged.

Kara shook her head and thrust the gun out to Laura, as she had when there was a possibility of her being a Cylon. "Shoot me. Shoot your enemy. Shoot me!"

"But you're not my enemy," Laura conveyed.

Kara protested. "I'm the Old Man's enemy. I took both of his sons from him. Shoot me!"

(My thanks to Mamabella, carolann, SMCKI10, Ms. McGonagall, Ceridwyn2, and Mariel3 for reviewing :D)


	10. How to heal

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 10: How to heal

Laura set the gun down on the floor and shook her head. "You are nobody's enemy."

The other woman sniffed. "You don't understand."

"Then why don't we sit down and you can tell me," Laura offered kindly, gesturing to two chairs.

Kara nodded and waited until they had both sat down to tell her story. "The truth is that Lee wouldn't have been on that transport if it weren't for me."

"You're right. I don't understand," the older woman commented.

The blonde woman slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees. _Like Bill_, Laura mused. "He found me in Joe's Bar the night before. I haven't been able to look at alcohol since the transport… I was still pissed that Sam turned out to be a skinjob. We had a few drinks and he walked me back to the quarters I've been using. But then he didn't leave, and I didn't want him to. We… spent the night together."

"I see," Laura said politely.

Kara shook her head. "No you don't. Instead of catching an earlier transport, he was taking a long shower with me. I made him late. And you want to know what the last thing he said to me was? He said 'I love you.' And the frakked up part of it is that for once I said it back."

Laura noticed that as she was talking, the younger woman had pulled the chain to her dog tags forward. On the end dangled a man's ring. "That's his, isn't it?" Laura inquired.

She looked down and nodded. "Yeah. He slipped it onto the chain that night when I wasn't looking. I sent my ring and Sam's ring off to the barter system before going to Joe's."

Placing a hand on Kara's shoulder, Laura gave her a warm smile. "The accident wasn't your fault. It was a series of bad coincidences, but it was in no way your fault. Did you tell the Cylons to start shooting at each other? No. Did you tell that transport to just gun it across an expanse of space in the middle of a fire zone? No. Kara, Lee loved you very much. He loved you since Kobol, if not longer."

"I loved him too, so much that it hurt sometimes, so much that it scared me. I should've married him on New Caprica," Kara expressed as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Laura knew her to be a strong woman, and she felled privileged that Kara would chose to show her vulnerable side to her.

She enveloped the woman in a motherly hug. "Go talk to Bill. You two can help each other heal," she whispered. Kara nodded and after a while the two slowly pulled away.

They walked to the admiral's quarters, each with their own thoughts until Kara spoke. "I'm glad the Old Man has you."

Laura blushed. "So am I, but he also needs his daughter."

The blonde woman shook her head. "But I'm not really-"

"He's considered you a daughter for a long time. You've argued, and you've fought, but one thing I've learned about Bill is that the term 'family' is much broader than I had ever previously thought," Laura interjected.

They stopped at the door and she knocked. She heard his gravely voice call, "It's open."

She and the younger woman proceeded through the hatch. Sitting in the couch, Bill looked over and noticed Laura first. "You don't really have to knock, you know."

"I have a few things to tell you, but first, someone else wants to talk with you," Laura mentioned, moving aside to reveal Kara.

"Starbuck," he observed.

She stepped forward and nodded. "Sir." An awkward pause passed before she spoke again. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here earlier. I just felt so-"

He pulled her into a fierce hug. Laura watched with a small smile as father and daughter held each other. "You're here now, and that's what matters," he whispered.

Laura decided to leave the two alone and take a walk. She stopped by the galley for a snack, and returned to the admiral's quarters two hours later. Entering quietly, she found Bill on the couch and Kara nowhere in sight. "Did she leave?" Laura inquired.

He looked up at her as she slipped out of her shoes. "She's sleeping in the bed. She looked like she was going to collapse after crying herself out, so I let her stay there."

"How did it go?" Laura asked, joining him on the couch, noticing the redness around his eyes.

"She told me what happened. I explained that it wasn't her fault. And then we talked about the good times with Lee," he relayed, a heavy sigh passing out of his chest. Though the pain was still there, she could almost see the beginning of healing.

Laura leaned against Bill's shoulder, entwining her fingers with his. As she considered the circumstances of the past few days, a smirk spread over her lips. "Bill," she began. He faced her, raising an eyebrow to her smirk. "If Kara's in your bed, where are we going to sleep?"

He snorted, which shortly turned into a chuckle. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I suppose we could both sleep on the couch. If we don't fit, I'll just take the floor."

"We'll fit," she said resolutely.

They took turns dressing for bed and decided on positions similar to the ones they had take on the two previous nights. He would have his back against the couch while she would rest against him and he would hold her at the waist. "Bill, I really don't think I'd fall off," she mentioned as he dragged the blanket over them.

"While you're certain, I'm not," he responded, pulling her closer.

A yawn sneaked out. "I wanted to tell you something."

"We're both tired. You can tell me in the morning," he stated. She fought to stay awake, wanting to continue their conversation, but her eyes would not obey and she soon succumbed to sleep.

Kara woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Her military training kicked in as she sat up immediately, her eyes darting around the room as she found the light switch. She sighed with relief, seeing that she was only in the Old Man's bedroom. Glancing down, she noted that she had fallen asleep in her uniform. "If I'm here, then where's the Old Man?" she wondered aloud.

Her answer came when she peered into the living room. Bill and Laura slept next to each other on the couch, sleeping comfortably for the most part. Kara smiled at the two and put a hand over her mouth to muffle the giggle. Then she headed to the desk to leave a note for her superiors. She sneaked out, trying to close the door quietly behind her.

The sound of the hatch closing woke Bill. He moved to stretch without opening his eyes first and to his surprise, Laura's arm came with his when he moved. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"It's alright. Good morning," she remarked, sitting up slowly, placing her feet on the rug.

"Good morning," he echoed. "I think that was Starbuck closing the hatch."

Laura nodded. "Probably. Your couch is actually almost as comfortable as your rack."

He stood and headed toward the bathroom. "Doesn't do to have a bad couch in a military situation."

"Your couch has proved itself then on several occasions," Laura teased, heading to his closet to find where she had hung up her dress suit the previous evening.

"So you come here just for my couch?" he teased.

She grabbed a pillow and swatted him. "You know better than that. If I'd only wanted your couch, you'd have slept on the floor."

He chuckled. "Watch it. Twenty years ago you would've been in trouble for that."

"Stick-in-the-mud," she remarked facetiously.

"Let me rephrase that. If I was twenty years younger and neither of us had jobs to report to, then you'd be in trouble," he explained.

Sighing heavily, she set the pillow back down on the couch. "Unfortunately you win that one."

He smirked and stood, intending to seek out his uniform. However, he was suddenly stopped when she grabbed his wrist to pull him back. "What is it?"

She rose as well. "I wanted to tell you something last night, but with everything that happened, we were both too tired."

His thoughts drifted to where she had been yesterday. Life Station came to mind and worry appeared in his eyes. "Laura, what did Jack-"

"It's good news this time," she told him, easing his worries. "He told me that the tumor is shrinking and wants me in for surgery the day after tomorrow."

Relief washed over Bill's face as he smiled. Then he leaned toward her and kissed her softly. "That is good news."

As he turned back, intending to head toward the bathroom, he spotted something on his desk. "Looks like Kara left a note for us. 'Hey Old Man, Madame Prez, I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here last night. You two are the closest I've ever had to parents, not just to me, but for the fleet too.'"

They took turns in the shower and dressed for the day, ordering up a tray of food and coffee. Later they were putting the dishes back on the tray to be returned to the galley when the phone rang. Bill moved to answer it while Laura watched with interest. "Adama… I'm listening… Actually I'd rather stand," he paused and glanced back at Roslin. "Are you sure? Double checked… I see… Don't breathe a word of it to anyone… We'll handle it ourselves," he ended.

She noticed his shoulders slump as he hung up the phone and walked over to him. "What is it?"

He sighed heavily and faced her. "Blood test confirmed it. Dee's a Cylon."

"What will you do?" she asked, touching his shoulder.

"I'll have her watched," he simply replied.

"Between the Cylons and Dino Fife, the brig is filling up," she remarked.

"One of those two parties won't be in there much longer," he muttered. Then he looked back at her. "How's your schedule for the day?"

She adjusted her suit blazer. "I never realized how much work Tory actually did. It's difficult to fit meetings into the right places these days."

"I don't need an aide and I'm fine," he countered as they neared the hatch to leave.

"That's because your day is mostly the same routine unless there's an emergency," she retorted. He only smirked at her again as they walked toward CIC.

A marine was subtly watching Dee as the president and the admiral looked over fleet status reports after initiating a jump. The phone rang and Adama reached for it. "Admiral Adama, sir, the Cylon prisoners are asking to see you and the president," the guard chattered nervously.

"Did they explain why?" the admiral inquired.

"No, sir, but they did ask for paper earlier this morning. You might wanna get a doctor down here too. The blonde one doesn't look so good today," the guard relayed.

Adama glanced up at Roslin. "We're on our way," he remarked before hanging up the phone.

"What was that all about?" the president asked.

"There's a situation with the Cylons in the brig. Jack might be needed too," he mentioned.

She walked past the table and looked back at him. "Then what are we still standing here for?"

The three of them sauntered toward the brig, oblivious to the odd stares at their hurried pace. When they arrived, Saul Tigh stood and walked toward the door of the cell. In his hands were three folded pieces of paper. "Made these after the last jump," he began, sticking the pieces of paper through the bars.

Adama gook them and showed them to Roslin. "They look like coordinate arrangements," she observed.

The admiral looked directly at Tigh. "Why?"

He glanced at Tyrol and Tory before turning his attention back to his CO. "I suppose it's what the Final Five were meant to do. Those are coordinate patterns to get to Earth."

"What order do they go in?" Roslin questioned.

Six stood and neared the others, leaning on the bars with one hand. "The Final One shall know the order."

Jack moved forward, watching her. "The guard says you might not feel well."

"He is observant. I feel nauseated," she said briefly

The doctor put a hand to her forehead. "You don't feel warm. I'm going to take a blood sample and see if there's a problem."

She nodded and soon he was gone. Tigh watched her with what might have been concern, but he did not move or speak to her. Tyrol stepped forward, facing the admiral. "Sir, if those coordinates were our purpose, can we go back to work now?"

Adama simply left the brig without a word to anyone, Roslin following him. "Bill." Once they were outside, he slowed his pace as she caught up. "We need them to go back to their jobs. Seelix's been watching Tyrol's son. I need my XO and you need your aide. But they're Cylons. Where does that leave us?"

"Maybe they're right. We could let them go when we reach Earth, can't we?" she suggested.

He shrugged and kept walking. "I'll see if Gaeta can make sense of these charts."

The leaders of the fleet returned to CIC and Adama approached the lieutenant. "Gaeta, I need you to look at these coordinates and see if you think they're reliable."

"Yes, sir," the young man responded, accepting the papers.

(My thanks to Mamabella, Mariel3, SMCKI10, carolann, voodooDRUG, and Ms. McGonagall for reviewing :D)


	11. The worst is over now

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 11: The worst is over now

The president left shortly for a few meetings. Through them though, her mind kept drifting back to the Cylons in the brig. _What are we going to do? The truth is that Bill needs Saul. They were like brothers in a way. Should we let them go when we reach Earth? Maybe it should be sooner. I'm sick of games and I'm too tired to fight this issue anymore. The fact remains that we need them_.

"What does the president think?" a man on the Board of Nutrition asked.

Laura looked up, schooling her features to hide her embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Would you please restate the question?"

"We wanted to know what you thought about the proposal for adding more flavor to the algae," one of the scientists reminded.

She nodded. "Yes, of course you were. I apologize for my lapse, gentlemen. By all means, please add more flavoring."

The meeting ended shortly after her statement. She returned to CIC to find Helo acting as XO. Bill was nowhere to be found. "Captain Agathon, have you seen the admiral?" she asked.

He stepped over to her. "He should be back soon. Said he had something to take care of."

"I'll wait for him here then," she responded. Helo shrugged and returned to his post while she looked out at the fleet from the viewscreen. _I hope Bill's alright. The last thing either of us needs is for him to do something foolish because he's upset_.

She jerked her head over as the door opened. To her relief, Adama walked through the room. Noticing that she had returned, he approached her. "Needed to clear my head," was all he said.

Studying him, she saw the deep lines of his face, scars mixed with stress, grief, and loss. "Observation Deck?"

He raised an eyebrow at her perception. "It's a good place to think." He moved so that they stood close together. "I have to think about what's best for the fleet regarding the Final Five," he whispered.

She took a deep breath. "And?"

"They are essential parts of the fleet. But that's also why they need to be watched. They could do help or harm in their positions. I'm letting the guards keep an eye on them a little longer," he mentioned.

"Caution is a good idea in this situation," she whispered back.

He opened his mouth to comment when Gaeta spoke. "Sir, ma'am, I have some information regarding what you gave me earlier."

Adama looked over at him. "My office," he stated as he, Gaeta, and Roslin headed in that direction.

The lieutenant spread his charts over the table, along with the coordinates from the Cylons. "It's a pattern, but I can't figure out which one goes first. However, I've also been able to figure out the fourth one."

Roslin held one of the coordinate sets in her hand for a moment. "I think we should ask Lieutenant Dualla," she recommended.

Gaeta looked at the president as if she had suggested that his hair was green. "With all due respect ma'am, it's not Dee's area of expertise."

Laura looked from Gaeta to Bill. "I have a hunch. Could you both just go with me on this?"

Adama sighed. "I'll call her in."

Dee entered the office, her brow furrowing as he looked at the others. "What's going on, sir?" she asked the admiral.

He handed her the coordinate sets. "We were wondering if you could figure out the order of these."

"Why me?" she questioned.

"We need a fresh pair of eyes," Roslin covered.

Dee sat down, studying the coordinates intently. After several minutes she reached for a pencil. "It's a pattern. This recent one is a bit off, so I'll just fix that if no one minds. Now if you look at the order in this one, it follows a shift here, and oh- I think I see the next pattern. Wow, usually I'm not good at this kind of stuff."

All five coordinate sets were laid out on the table in order. "Thank you Dee," the admiral remarked.

She smiled politely. "You're welcome, sir. May I return to my post?"

"Yes, lieutenant," Adama replied.

Gaeta watched Dee leave before returning to the other two. "That was strange."

Laura faced Bill. "Is it really that simple? Could we be looking at the last five jumps to Earth?"

He paused, watching her for a moment. "You once asked me if I believed in miracles."

She raised an eyebrow. "And do you?"

"After what you told me this morning, I have to say yes. Miracles do happen, at least once in a while," he replied.

A broad grin spread over her face as she stepped closer to him. "There's hope for you yet, Bill Adama."

Adama leaned toward her, but the moment was interrupted by Gaeta loudly clearing his throat. The president and the admiral quickly stepped back, blushing. Then Adama turned toward the younger man. "Lieutenant, I trust what goes on in here stays in here."

Gaeta smiled politely. "Yes, sir."

It was decided that the fleet would make three jumps in the first day and two jumps in the second. As the admiral and the president stood in CIC awaiting the final jump, Roslin moved toward the wireless. "I think our vice president should be here to see this with us," she mentioned.

"So he's that much of an improvement from Zarek?" Adama asked quietly with a smirk.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she replied.

Garfeld arrived in CIC escorted by Helo. His eyes scanned the room from top to bottom. "It certainly looks busy over here," he observed.

Roslin motioned for him to join her. "Welcome, Mr. Garfeld. I trust your trip wasn't too difficult."

The vice president gave her a charismatic grin. "It's good to be here, Madame President. You've done a fine job leading us to Earth. It will be wonderful to finally see our destination." Then he looked over at the admiral. "I don't believe we've met properly. Cornelius Garfeld."

Adama raised an eyebrow, but politely shook the other man's hand. "Admiral William Adama. Welcome aboard Galactica." Then he turned toward Roslin. "Well Madame President, I believe you were just about to give the order."

She gave him a warm smile that his own face mirrored. "Take us to Earth, Admiral."

The three held onto the table as the room around them seemed to squish together for the final jump. Once they had arrived, Adama looked over his shoulder at Gaeta. "Lieutenant, please state our location."

Gaeta focused on his console for a moment and then looked up. "Sir, the star formations in this region match what we've been after. According to our data, we're here."

Adama and Roslin had turned their attention to the lieutenant. Garfeld, on the other hand, was facing the viewscreen. "Will you look at that," he exclaimed quietly. "Here it is, after all this time. Amazing."

The president and the admiral quickly wheeled around to see what he had been referring to. On the viewscreen was a bluish planet with rock formations and clouds. Laura blinked back tears of joy, wiping her eyes. Bill placed a hand on her back. "You did it, Laura," he whispered.

She shook her head and looked back at him, eyes shining. "No Bill, we did it. We brought them home."

"And what a spectacular job you've done, Madame President," Garfeld added, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and smiled proudly. "Well gentlemen, I think it's time we told the rest of the fleet that we've arrived."

"DRADIS confirmed, all ships present and accounted for, sir," Dee chimed in.

Adama picked up the wireless and was about to make the announcement when an eerily familiar silver flash appeared on the viewscreen. "Is that really what I think it is?" Garfeld inquired.

Roslin groaned. "I don't believe this."

"Sir, it's the rebel Cylon base ship and they're transmitting a message," Dee remarked.

"Put it through," Adama responded reluctantly.

D'Anna's voice was heard through CIC. "Did you really think that you could outsmart us? We have one of the Final Five over here. The work we've already done, plus his… cooperation, reluctant or not, led us to you, and consequently to Earth."

"I think she means they may have tortured Anders for information," Roslin whispered.

Adama nodded. "Whatever she means, we're in trouble." Then he responded to the transmission. "What do you want, D'Anna?"

She chuckled darkly. "I told you I want an island for the Cylons to live on. I didn't say how big an island though. Someone should really go down there and see what there is."

The transmission cut off and Roslin leaned toward Adama. "Bill, what are we going to do?"

Adama sighed heavily, leaning on the table. "I've had enough of this." He looked over his shoulder at Dee. "Try contacting them again."

The young petty officer nodded. "I've got them."

That time the viewscreen changed from a picture of Earth to the inside of the Cylon baseship. The lone Three faced them from her chair, crossing her knees, dealing them an irritated look as if having assumed a monarchy. "What do you humans want this time? It's either the president or the admiral we're talking to. Well?" D'Anna questioned.

"What have you done with Natalie?" Roslin probed.

"Change in leadership," D'Anna remarked curtly.

Garfeld decided to add his thoughts. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Vice President Garfeld and I believe that if we could sit down and discuss the situation, I'm sure we could find the Cylons a suitable place to inhabit."

D'Anna sneered at him. "Well aren't you quaint? Look, I'm not here to negotiate; I'm here to take what is rightfully mine."

Adama faced her with a menacing glare. "You move that ship any closer to the planet and I won't hesitate to blow it up. You're out-gunned here," he told her in that deadly quiet tone.

She laughed at him. "Do you really think I would be that stupid? You have really underestimated me."

Then the transmission ended again. "She's got something up her sleeve," Roslin mentioned.

"I know, which is why I'd like to send Starbuck out there to keep an eye on things," Adama stated.

Then he called the deck using a secure channel. After a while Starbuck's voice was heard over the wireless. "What do you need, sir?"

"Take the blackbird and keep an eye on our Cylon friends," he ordered.

"Yes sir," she replied enthusiastically. "Something tells me it'll be payback time soon."

"Let's hope it's a 'payback' that we all survive," Garfeld added.

In CIC the president, vice president, and admiral watched the DRADIS. It was not surprising when a new dot appeared. "Sir, a Raider just left the baseship," Dee relayed.

"What the hell is D'Anna doing?" Adama wondered aloud.

Kara radioed them. "I've got a raider leaving the ship and I'm in pursuit.

"Bring in the cat, Starbuck," Adama told her.

Gaeta abruptly stood, knocking his chair over. "Sir, there's a nuke aboard the Raider! If that ship blows near the atmosphere, it'll contaminate the planet!

"Dammit, I knew she was up to something," Adama growled.

Roslin leaned closer to him. "If Starbuck destroys that Raider, Earth will suffer for it."

He radioed Kara again. "Starbuck, the Raider's carrying a nuke. Do not fire on it. I repeat, do not fire."

Her voice crackled back. "But sir, it'll land if I don't do something!"

Garfeld, who had been staring at the viewscreen in contemplation, suddenly turned toward the others and shouted, "Pong!"

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He grinned. "Don't you understand? Pong! It's the same principle! We can't blow up the Raider, so why not change its trajectory?"

"How?" Adama asked.

Garfeld lifted up two model ships from the table. "If your pilot can hit the engine or whatever that thing uses for propulsion at the right angle, it will deflect the ship off into another direction. And if it has no propulsion, it's drifting on inertia."

"And if it's drifting, we can move it," Roslin assessed.

Adama turned back to the wireless. "Starbuck, you flew one of those. Find the engines and shoot it."

"Sir, you just told me not to shoot it," she reminded. He, with the help of Garfeld, told her what angle to maneuver her ship to so that she could fire and redirect the Raider.

In CIC they held their breaths watching the DRADIS, knowing that they would only see the Raider. It moved closer to the planet, but then suddenly veered off in another direction. "She did it," Adama stated.

The wireless crackled again. "Sir, I've disabled it and it's drifting toward you. What now?"

"We need a couple of Raptors and some tow lines," he answered.

As D'Anna's Raider was pulled closer to Galactica's hanger, Dee informed CIC of an incoming transmission from the baseship. "Put it through," Adama ordered.

The familiar face of Samuel Anders appeared on the viewscreen, bruised with a black eye, but still in recognizable shape. "Admiral, I trust you've captured D'Anna's ship?"

"Yes. Mr. Anders, we were under the impression that you'd been incapacitated," Adama responded.

The other man leaned on the console and took a deep breath. "I was… tortured for certain information. However, I've escaped the cell. Natalie was unfortunately a victim of D'Anna and is dead. The Cylons here want me in charge."

Roslin crossed her arms as she faced him. "And what are your demands, Mr. Anders?"

"Madame President, the Cylons want D'Anna returned. We will deal with her in our own way for what she's done. They also want a chance to settle," Anders explained.

She turned toward the admiral and whispered, "What do you think we should do?"

Garfeld stepped over to them. "I think it's time that we all sat down for an old-fashioned peace talk."

(My thanks to Ms. McGonagall, SMCKI10, Mamabella, voodooDRUG, and Ceridwyn2 for reviewing :D)


	12. And I can breathe again

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 12: And I can breathe again

While they waited for the 'peace talk,' Adama decided to make the fleetwide announcement. "Attention Colonial Fleet, this is Admiral Adama. Our journey has taken nearly four years. We've struggled, we've lost, we've fought, and now we've won. Earth is only a short Raptor trip away. We have finally arrived. Recon missions will be sent before landing parties go down to the surface to ensure peoples' safety. In our joy at arriving, let us not forget those who have died along our journey. We will honor them with our lives as we continue not to only survive, but to live."

Laura beamed with pride as her eyes locked with Bill's. They moved toward each other almost in slow motion. Then they met each other half way for a heart-felt hug. When they broke away, Dee came down to hug him. Seeing the two of them, Laura understood what he had said earlier; Cylon or not, she was still family. As Laura turned back to the viewscreen, she was met by Garfeld's open arms as he hugged her.

"Thank you for bringing us this far," he told her as they separated. _That was a bit strange, but I suppose he was just caught up in the moment_, she figured.

The peace talk went more smoothly than either side would have imagined. The Cylons took D'Anna back with them after agreeing that the humans would settle on the planet first, then the Cylons would land on a remote island. An invitation was also offered for any Cylons within the fleet to join Anders and his group. He and Adama were the last to leave the room.

Adama placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Sir?" Ander asked.

"If you want to speak with Kara, I might be able to arrange something," the admiral offered.

Anders sighed and shook his head. "Thanks, but it's over between us. She made that pretty clear. I have another place to be now. The Cylons want me as their leader."

Outside the boardroom, Garfeld caught Roslin. "Madame President, Laura, I would be honored if you would join me for lunch."

She smiled politely. "I need a word with the admiral first."

"Of course. I'll wait right here," he replied.

Laura passed Anders before finding Bill. "You were speaking with Mr. Anders?"

"He feels that his place is with the Cylons. They've made him their leader," Adama told her.

"I'm not surprised. They seem to make leaders of the Cylons who are different from the collective masses. Kara still wants nothing to do with him anyway," Laura responded.

He folded his hands in front of him. "You didn't come here to talk about the Cylons though."

She shook her head. "Garfeld asked me to have lunch with him. After that I'll probably have to hold a press conference and then Cottle wants to see me to discuss tomorrow's procedures."

Bill studied her for a moment, noticing the black skirt, matching jacket, and light pink blouse she wore. "I think the vice president has a crush on you," he said seriously.

She eyed him incredulously and laughed. "That's ridiculous. First of all, I'm probably ten years older than he is."

"Since when has age mattered?" Bill asked, his brow furrowing.

Placing a hand on his forearm, she spoke. "It's different if the woman is older. Age aside, I'm also not exactly in superb health, although that will be improving."

"I'm just saying be careful," he reminded.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. "You have nothing to worry about. I'll just tell him that I'm already spoken for."

Though Roslin and Garfeld picked up their lunches from the cafeteria, he led her to the Observation Deck to eat. With the excitement of the day, the algae sandwiches even tasted edible. After taking a few bites, Roslin thought back to what Adama had suggested. "Mr. Garfeld-"

"Please, just 'Cornelius' will do."

"Cornelius, as much as I like the view from the Observation Deck, why are we here?" she inquired.

He took a few more bites of his food. "With all the excitment, the galley is too noise to have a conversation, and I don't have quarters on this ship. Also, I did want to ask you something."

As he smiled at her, she blushed. "And what would that be?"

Garfeld took a deep breath and faced her. "Madame President, Laura, you are a remarkable, beautiful woman. I have grown fond of you and would like to pursue a relationship, other than friendship, with you."

_Why did Bill have to be right about this?_ She folded her hands in her lap, formulating a response before looking back at him. "Cornelius, you are very kind, and supportive. I need to remind you of a few things. I am older than you-"

"So?"

"I have cancer, though it may get better, and what you see isn't my real hair," she admitted.

He reached for her hands. "None of that matters. You are a wonderful woman whom I would like to spend more time with."

She moved away and stood. "I'm flattered, truly, but I can't."

Following her as she started to pace, he asked, "Why not?"

"It's not you, it's... well, what I mean to say is that I'm spoken for," she explained.

He raised an eyebrow. "May I ask whom you would be referring to?"

She crossed her arms and looked back toward the enormous window. "The admiral."

"The admiral," he echoed quietly. "So the rumors..."

Quickly she turned back to him. "Most of the gossip is just gossip as far as the details. However, there is some truth to the rumors. He and I are, well, close."

Garfeld sighed heavily. "Well, it was worth a shot. I hope he knows that he's the luckiest man in the fleet. "

She stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Someday you will find the right woman for you. And when you do, I'm sure she'll be lucky to have you."

He nodded politely. "Maybe you're right. In the meantime, I do believe that we have a press conference to arrange."

After the press conference, Adama and Roslin decided to visit the brig and question Dino Fife. As the two most powerful people in the fleet entered the room, Fife looked up from the cell bed at them. Only five feet tall and stocky with a black moustache and badly died red hair, he shook his head at them. "Took you two long enough. I was starting to wonder if I'd be in solitary confinement indefinitely."

Roslin noticed as Adama tensed at the shoulders before he spoke. "Do you know why you're here?"

"I got caught, plain and simple. Next question," Fife retorted.

The president crossed her arms as she looked at the prisoner. "Mr. Fife, you were trafficking in narcotics. Not only that, because of your impatience to receive illegal substances, thirty people are dead."

Fife shrugged. "My bad. They should've known better. Your own vice president was in on it too. It was his way of paying me for information."

"What sort of information?" Adama questioned.

The prisoner shrugged again. "Information from the Prometheus, anything he could use. He paid me in what we'll call 'questionable collateral,' and I used it to buy whatever I needed. Doesn't matter anymore, now that he's dead."

_No remorse. This man has absolutely no remorse_, Roslin realized. "Don't you realize that with your criminal activities and what you've done, you might not even get a trial?"

Fife snorted. "Lady, do I look like I care? I want out, and you only have marginal proof that I actually did anything wrong. I never got the delivery, and nobody heard me telling that transport to speed when it did. You got nothing."

"I think we're through here for now," Adama stated, clenching and unclenching his fist as he headed for the door.

Laura followed him and the two did not speak until they had entered the admiral's quarters. Bill paced back and forth, careful not to run into the coffee table. "I don't know what to do about Fife."

Laura pulled her feet up on the couch, her gaze following him. "What he did was vile and costly. You know, you could take revenge on him for what he's cost you."

"Revenge doesn't work, Laura. I could try to take revenge against the Cylons. But Helena Cain tried that and look what happened to her. No. revenge is wrong. Dmitri Fife is trash, but I can't justify killing him. It still won't bring Lee back," Bill relayed.

He joined her on the couch as a contemplative silence descended over them both. Then she stood and placed crossed her arms. "You might not be able to airlock him, but I can. It's a bigger problem than just revenge. Fife's request cost not only your son, but twenty-nine other people their lives. Fife is a liability, a risk to the fleet. I will not allow that man hurt anyone else, and you know as well as I do that he'd do it again."

After talking with Bill, Laura headed to Life Station for an appointment with Cottle. "Nice to see you're on time," the doctor stated as she entered.

She smiled wryly. "You're lucky I'm here on time. It's been a busy day. We've reached Earth, made a peace treaty of sorts with the Cylons, dealt with the press, and argued with an annoying prisoner."

Cottle smirked back. "All in a day's work. Why don't you have a seat and I'll tell you what to expect for tomorrow."

Though Cottle had explained things well enough, Laura cringed at the reality of what was to come the following morning. She walked back to the admiral's quarters in silent reflection. Bill found her on the couch, hands folded in her lap. She looked up when he handed her a cup of tea. "How did it go with Cottle?" he asked, joining her on the couch.

She took a long, meditative sip before facing him. "Jack went over the procedure with me. He'll be performing it himself, just a standard, simple lumpectomy."

Watching her carefully, he noticed her gaze drop. "If it's as simple as you say it is, then what's bothering you?"

Her eyes closed and her reply was a near-whisper. "I'm afraid. What if it's not that simple?" _What if I really do have to leave you? I can't do that to you._

Gently he took the teacup from her hand and placed it down on the coffee table. Then he enveloped both of her hands in his. "Laura, don't talk like that."

"But Bill, medically I don't expect good luck. I got off easy once. I'm supposed to be the Dying Leader. Do you really think my luck will hold again?" she argued.

Worry reflected back to him in her eyes. Instead of feeding her concerns, he chose to give her a bold smile. "All this from the woman who doesn't believe in luck. You told me 'A lighter is just a lighter,' remember?"

She gave him a half-smile. "Touché, Mister Adama."

He dropped her hands. She rose and took the teacup over to his sink. She did not realize he had followed her until she felt his hands on her shoulders. "Laura, it'll be alright."

Did he say that more for my sake, or for his? "I suppose." She felt the warm pressure of his hands as they glided along her neck and shoulders. "Mmm, what are you doing?"

"Returning a favor," he responded in his gravely voice.

If he keeps this up, I might just forget about tomorrow, and the day after that, she mused. But her mind would not allow her to find peace. What if there are no more tomorrows? What if it ends here?

Bill stopped his ministrations when he suddenly felt hot tears on the backs of his fingers. Grasping her shoulders, he turned her around. "Laura, what's wrong?"

She hastily wiped her eyes. "I have to face the reality that things might not go as planned. I want you to know something though."

"You have my full attention," he told her.

She took him by the hand and led him back into the living room. Then she looked directly into his eyes, smoky blue meeting vibrant green. She licked her lips. "I love you Bill, more than I've ever loved anyone else. And more than I even thought possible."

He reached out and touched her face, cupping her cheek with his hand as he smiled warmly. "You are my sin qua non, that which I cannot live without. I love you too, Laura."

Then he leaned in to kiss her. Both had waited so long for the moment that the tender kiss took both of their breaths away. Suddenly it was as if an electrical charge had spread through her veins. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. Her fears over the surgery melted away as he kissed her passionately. As his lips strayed to her neck and throat, she popped open the buttons of his uniform jacket.

He shrugged it off, not caring where it landed. They kissed languidly while he unbuttoned her blouse. Though he had more trouble with her tiny buttons than she had with his, the blouse soon followed his jacket to the floor. She moaned as his calloused hands explored her back. An "oh Bill" slipped out as his lips found her neck again. She slid her hands under his tanks and plucked them off. "Laura," he rasped as she roamed her hands over his chest and back.

They had been moving toward his rack without much notice. Realizing where they were, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, his hands lingering on her upper arms. Her brow furrowed. "Why did you stop?"

"Is this really what you want?" he asked, stroking one of her arms with his thumb.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, her mouth inches from his. "You have no idea how badly."

Her mouth claimed his hungrily and the two sank into his rack. Hands and mouths sought out skin. Clothing was discarded and ignored. They fell asleep later, her heart pressed against his, the two beating as one.

(My thanks to SMCKI10 and Mamabella for reviewing :D)


	13. I love the way you laugh

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 13: I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh

As the buzz of an alarm interrupted Laura's sleep, she poked her arms out from the blankets to stretch and accidentally hit a sleeping admiral in the face. "Oomph."

"Sorry, Bill. I guess I wasn't paying attention to who was where when we fell asleep last night," she remarked.

He chuckled as he reached back to switch off his alarm. "That's alright. I still like waking up with you, even if it means risking a broken nose."

She swatted his shoulder and smirked. "Bill Adama, sometimes you're infuriating!"

As they both sat up, he kissed her soundly. "And you, Laura Roslin, are still a tease. I'm going to take a quick shower and then you can use it. That way you won't have to answer the door for anyone."

"I suppose that's acceptable, as long as you share some of that experimental coffee you've got with me," she bargained.

He sighed, pulling a uniform from his closet. "Can't. You're not supposed to eat or drink anything before surgery."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "You had to remind me about that part. You owe me some coffee tomorrow then."

Smirking, he took one last look at her before disappearing into the bathroom. "Deal."

After he had disappeared into the bathroom, she found her clothes. Noticing her reflection from the mirror in the closet that he had left open when retrieving his uniform, she saw the tangled mess that her wig had become. _At least since I'll be in surgery I won't be needing this, she reasoned, taking it off and finger-combing the tangles out._

She could still hear the shower running as she arranged her green headscarf. _I really hope the surgery goes well. Between the Cylons, Earth's recon reports, and Fife, the last thing he should be worrying about is me. Then she paused. Fife. I can't let him hurt any more people_.

A plan of action had formed in her mind as she called the guard in one particular section of the brig. "Lieutenant Forester."

"This is the president," Roslin began.

There was a sputtering sound on the other end of the line, followed by a shuffling of papers. "Ma'am, this is a surprise. How may I help you?"

"Dino Fife is to be executed by airlock. That was an executive order," Roslin responded.

"Yes, ma'am," the guard replied.

Setting the phone down, she breathed a sigh of relief. _I'll have to explain myself later, but at least the man can't cause any more trouble_. As Adama emerged from the bathroom, she took his place, showering and dressing. Then they walked arm in arm, as was their usual custom, to Life Station.

Cottle glanced over at the two as they entered Life Station. "I'm glad you're both here. It'll save me time."

Laura and Bill exchanged puzzled glances. "For the surgery?" she asked.

The old doctor shook his head. "For information. That blonde Cylon, the one that wasn't feeling well, I have her results."

"Is it the Cylon virus?" Adama asked.

"Nope. She's pregnant," Cottle informed them.

The admiral blinked, wide-eyed. "How?"

Cottle smirked fiendishly. "If you have to ask Bill-"

"I mean who's been with her?" Adama growled. "It's against regulations to violate a prisoner."

Sighing, Cottle glanced down at the chart in his hand. "Something tells me it was consensual. From what I'm looking at, the father is Saul Tigh."

"Holy frak," Bill exclaimed quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Are you sure?" Laura questioned.

Cottle nodded. "Positive."

Bill looked over at Laura. "We'll have to deal with it later. I believe you're here for surgery?"

The doctor flipped the page from the Cylons' chart to her chart. "She most certainly is. Let me get her prepped and then you can sit with her until the sleeping drugs kick in."

Soon Laura lay on the bed in a hospital gown while Bill took the chair next to the bed and held her hand. "It'll be alright," he assured her.

She smiled back at his effort to keep her in high spirits. "Yes, it will. Now I don't want you here the whole time waiting for me. You have a recon-"

He chuckled. "Yes, Madame President, I do have a recon. I'll get to that after you're asleep."

Laura yawned. "Won't be long now."

Bill leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I promise I'll be right here when you wake up."

"You had better, or I'll take your books out of alphabetical order," she said before a deep blackness surrounded her and sleep overtook her.

She felt as though her head had been held under water while her body was trudging through a murky swamp. For the monumental effort it took to open her eyes, she was rewarded by the piercing light above her. "You're awake," a gravelly voice next to her observed.

Turning her head slowly she spotted Bill smiling warmly as he closed the book in his lap. "Hi," she said. As her vision became sharper, she noticed the title of the book. "I hope you weren't reading Searider Falcon without me."

He shook his head. "Never. I was just catching up to where we'd left off. How are you feeling?"

Closing her eyes again, she shifted slightly, making a mental assessment. "Sore. And something tells me that I'll feel worse when the anesthesia clears."

"That's right, young lady," Cottle remarked, walking into her line of sight. "I'm glad you're awake. Now I can set up your pain medication."

"How long do I have to stay here?" she inquired.

The doctor smirked. "I knew you'd ask that. You're here on bed-rest for a week. Then you're to be resting in quarters for a week. That means absolutely no work."

She frowned at him. "I'm the president! I can't just lie around all day!"

"It'll give that new vice president a chance to get his feet wet. Now I need you to stay as still as you can for today. I can't even X-ray you until tomorrow," Cottle explained gruffly.

Facing Adama, she sighed. "Since I'm stuck here for the moment, would you mind telling me what I've missed?"

Cottle wandered off as Bill spoke. "Your surgery lasted about three hours. I'm still waiting for more of the recon reports, but I have enough of them to know what Earth is like. I've even sent two crews to collect samples."

"Well? We've come this far. Tell me already!" she probed.

He grinned. "Impatient today, I see. It's not what we expected."

"How so?" she asked.

Releasing a long sigh, he reached for one of her hands. "It's unoccupied. There were people there at one time, but no one's there now. From what Gaeta's been able to analyze so far, it's been vacant for about a hundred and fifty years."

Laura blinked in surprise. "Where did the people go?"

Bill folded his hands on top of the book. "From what we can figure, there was a massive nuclear war, mostly involving the northern hemisphere. It probably wiped out the entire human population."

"Frak, what have we brought our people to?" she implored, her heart sinking to her stomach at his words.

"The good news is that the planet looks like it's recovered for the most part. The southern hemisphere has a lot of vegetation and the radiation levels are normal. There may even be animals, but we haven't found any yet," Bill told her.

"Well, at least it's not a total loss," Laura conceded. "Was there anything else?"

Bill hesitated a moment before speaking. "I went to check on Fife this morning and the guard told me he'd been airlocked, buy presidential orders."

Laura faced him with a sigh. "I was going to tell you. Bill, he was a liability. He would do it again and more people would've been killed. As president, I have to do my best to keep the colonies safe," she argued.

Adama rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if ceding this particular battle to her. "Just don't do anything like that again without telling me."

"I promise," she responded.

Waiting for the week to end was the most obnoxious thing that Laura had ever endured. The only positive side to lying in Life Station was that Cottle didn't have to interrupt her schedule for tests. The X-rays showed her to be cancer-free and she was looking forward to spending the next night anywhere else when Kara walked into Life Station on Laura's last day.

"Madame Prez, is he finally letting you out?" the blonde woman asked, nodding toward Cottle.

Laura muffled a giggle as she zipped up her leather bag that she had kept her clothes and pajamas in. "Yes. What are you doing here?"

Kara hesitated before answering and Laura took a good long look at the younger woman. Dark circles hovered under her eyes and she looked pale. "I haven't been feeling well."

"Was it something you ate?" Laura inquired.

The other woman shook her head. "All we ever eat is algae. Suddenly breakfast keeps making a reappearance, as if it wasn't already disgusting."

Cottle, hearing that his patient had a visitor, ducked his head around the corner. "Starbuck, what can I do for you today?"

"I need a checkup. I'm not feeling well," she admitted.

He looked her over from head to toe. "For you to actually come here without being dragged in, you must really be sick."

"I can wait if you'd like," Laura offered.

Kara let a small smile slip out. "Thanks, Madame Prez."

Cottle led the blonde woman past a curtain to an area out of Laura's line of sight. She flipped through a few reports that Bill had left with her as she waited. Half an hour later Kara walked back over to her. As Laura studied the younger woman's face, the expression was a mixture of joy and shock, mixed with something serene.

"How did it go?" Laura inquired.

Kara folded her hands in front of her, trying to find the right words. Then she looked back up to face the other woman. "I'm pregnant."

"Is that a good thing?" Laura questioned, still unsure what to make of Kara's expression.

"Yes. The baby's human," Kara explained.

Laura raised an eyebrow and then looked over at Cottle as he spoke. "For her we don't have to do a paternity test to determine whom the father is. If the father was Mr. Anders, then her baby would have hybrid blood, which will show up in a test even in the early stages. The baby is human."

"Which means that Lee is the father," Kara said quietly.

A bright smile spread over Laura's face as Kara grinned also. Laura pulled her into a hug. "I'm glad. We have to tell Bill."

"How about I walk you to his quarters? That was where you were going anyway, right," Kara asked with a smirk.

Ignoring the curious look from Cottle, Laura responded "Yes, it is."

When the two women neared the hatch, Laura did not knock that time. She opened the hatch to find Bill reading on the couch. He stood, immediately walking over to her. "Laura, where's your bag?"

The president stepped farther into the room, followed by the younger woman. "Kara brought it."

Bill looked from one to the other. "Should I be worried about this? The last time both of you were here, you had something to tell me."

Roslin and Kara exchanged glances, laughing. "Bill, it's good news this time, but you might want to sit down."

He followed her advice as Kara set the leather bag on the desk. Laura sat on the couch next to Bill while Kara took a chair. Slowly she faced the 'Old Man.' "I'm pregnant, and the baby's human. That means it's Lee's. You're going to be a grandfather."

Laura watched Bill's face carefully as he processed the information. She noticed the watery build up in his eyes that would stay in place but have a glossy affect. A slow smile crept across his mouth. Suddenly he was on his feet, hugging Kara. _She's his link to Lee. It's as if a part of his son came back from the dead_, Laura assessed.

Kara stayed for dinner that evening. While they were eating, Cottle called to remind Laura not to exert herself for another week. Later Laura and Bill sat on the couch as the evening wound down, drinking tea after Kara had left. Bill wrapped an arm around Laura's waist and the two sat closely to each other.

"We should have Kara over for dinner more often," he remarked.

"Yes. Now that you're going to be a grandfather, you'll be seeing more of her in general. It's nice to have good news. There's so much that we still have to do. I saw the updates on the recon missions. Settlement is going to take months," Laura reminded.

The phone rang and Bill rose to answer it. "Adama. Yes, that will be fine. You can come right over."

Laura raised an eyebrow when he walked over to the door. "Bill, what are you up to? What did you do today?"

He smiled back at her. "I let the Cylons out of the brig, including the blonde. They've been watched and everything seems to be fine."

"That's good to know. Was it Saul you were talking to?" she inquired.

A knock at the hatch caught his attention and she stood. "No. See for yourself."

Laura gasped in surprise as the hatch opened to reveal Tory. Her hair hung in controlled curls and her outfit looked pressed. "Hello Madame President, Admiral," the younger woman greeted.

A broad smile spread over Laura's face as she stepped closer. "Oh Tory, it's good to have you back."

The aide nodded. "Yes ma'am. I've got a mountain of work to catch up on, so I should be-"

Laura hugged her before she could say anymore. _In a way, she's my prodigal daughter. I didn't realize how much I've missed her_. As she pulled back, Laura regained her composure. "Everything you need is on Colonial One. I expect to see you back here at 0800 before you meet with the vice president."

Tory smiled and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

As the aide left, Laura turned toward Bill. "Thank you."

He reached out, taking her hands in his. "I guess it's a good day to hope."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. "It certainly is."

Later in his rack with his back to the wall, he held her so that she could lay on her right side. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm still a bit sore, but I do feel better. As you've heard, Jack's making me take another week off," she replied, sighing contentedly as she rested her arms across her waist, on top of his arm.

"That means we get to catch up on our reading," he told her. She could tell from his voice that he was smiling.

"Tell me, do more of your books use the first person narrator?" she inquired.

He chuckled. "You'll just have to stick around and find out."

She laced her fingers with his. "I fully intend to." After a pause when she was certain that he had not yet fallen asleep, she spoke again. "I've missed this, being here with you. Life Station got lonely at night."

Kissing the back of her neck, he replied "I think Jack would've had a heart attack if he had found you with a bedmate. Then we'd be without a doctor."

Nodding, she laughed heartily. "It would be fun to see the look on his face though." She sighed again and took a more reflective direction. "So much as happened. We've made peace with the Cylons, we've found Earth, and we're trying to settle it."

"Yeah," he commented wistfully. "There's just one thing left to do."

She noticed the hint of sadness as he spoke. "What?" she asked, rolling over slightly to see him.

As usual, his eyes showed her the depth of melancholy he was in. "I have to bury my son."

Reaching up, she touched his face. "Bill, you won't be alone. You have me, you have Kara, you even have Dee, and I hope in time you'll have Saul again." Instead of responding, he simply held her tighter as sleep claimed them.

They stood on Earth three weeks after Laura's surgery on a green hill that faced the ocean. The small group stood around the casket as a few marines lowered it into the ground and there was not a dry eye among them. Bill stood on one side of the hole with his right arm around Laura. Kara stood to his left.

Laura looked up, over to the other side of the hole where Dee and Saul stood. Bill had not told Dee of her actual identity, wanting to simply dismiss the matter. _I know this dividing of Cylons and humans wasn't entirely intentional on Bill's part. At least he made his peace with Saul before today. He needs his old friend_. Bill's voice brought her focus back to him.

"We let you rest in new soil, Leland Joseph Adama. May this be your final home as it will be for all of us," his father stated.

"May you find rest in the Elysian fields," Dee added.

"May we honor your memory," Laura mentioned.

Saul spoke as well. "Say hi to Ellen for me." Though he was willing to help Caprica and fill the role as a father, Saul still missed his first wife immensely.

The loss of Lee was still too great for Kara to say much. "So say we all," she managed as tears slid down her cheeks.

Once the casket had been buried, Kara walked back to the Raptor with Dee while Saul headed back to the settlement. So much had to be built before people could live on the planet. Laura turned to head toward the Raptor, but Bill caught her arm. "There's something I want you to see before we go."

She nodded and acquiesced to his lead. He took her hand and led her toward a grouping of trees. Walking through the trees, she saw a clearing with a glass-like lake. "Oh Bill, this place is beautiful," she remarked, facing him.

"I want to build our cabin here," he relayed with a smile.

Grinning, she looked back at the lake. "I like that idea." As she took her hand back from his grasp to explore the lake, the stepped in front of her. "What?"

He took both of her hands in his, looking down at his shoes. For some reason he seems nervous, she mused. When he faced her, his face held a warm smile and in that moment she realized that this smile was only for her. "Laura, I love you, so much. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She took her hands back and gasped, not having expected it at all. As she let the new information process, she could only grin back at him. Then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Yes. With all my heart, yes," she whispered in his ear. He turned his head and the two kissed passionately.

(A/N: This is not the last chapter! There is an epilogue of sorts to come).

(My thanks to Mamabella, SMCKI10, and Ceridwyn2 for reviewing :D)


	14. Memento

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 14: Memento

It had been six years since the fleet of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol had landed on Earth. The Cylons had held up their end of the treaty, remaining on an island-like land mass. A few, with permission, had mingled with the human populations. Laura Roslin had retired from the office of president not long after the settlement had been completed, so that Laura Adama could enjoy some time at her cabin by the lake with her husband Bill. The admiral, too, had retired, leaving command of Galactica to Helo.

Laura leaned on the railing of the porch, looking out at the lake, reflecting not for the first time on their travels and adventures since landing on Earth. She jumped, feeling a hand on her back. Turning quickly, she smirked, finding Bill behind her. "Without your military boots, you're as good as stealth," she teased him.

He smiled, kissing her softly. "Civilian shoes do have their advantages. What were you thinking about?"

"Everything, us, coming here. It's that kind of day," she responded as the wind stirred her hair. It had grown to its usual length and had remained auburn for the most part, only with the addition of gray streaks, which Bill smirked at every once in a while before running his fingers through it.

"Kara's coming by. I just thought you'd like to know in case you wanted to have lunch prepared," he mentioned.

Laura smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for telling me. What do you think, macaroni salad and meatloaf, or a garden salad and chicken?"

"Little Zachary might get a kick out of the macaroni," Bill replied as they headed into the cabin.

"He's not so little anymore," Laura reminded. As she reached for the noodles, she turned to see Bill ready to help. "As long as we both shall live, I'll never take real food for granted."

He chuckled and nodded. "Anything beats algae."

They began making lunch and while the meatloaf was cooking, continued speaking. "I ran into Cornelius yesterday. I forgot to tell you," she said.

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is Mr. President up to these days?"

"He introduced me to his fiancé, Megan," Laura relayed.

"I'll bet she has red hair and green eyes," Bill teased.

Laura blushed. "Actually her eyes are brow, but her hair is definitely red. I think she suits him. They were making jokes about getting lost."

"He really does have the worst sense of direction for I man I've ever seen," Bill added.

She giggled. "At least it only took him three days to find the new government building."

When the macaroni salad was read, he added a few more spices to it. "I stopped by to see Dee the other day. She and Felix are doing well," Bill commented.

"That's good. I hear little William keeps them busy," Laura remarked.

Just as the meatloaf finished cooking, they heard a knock at the door. "Must be Kara," said Bill.

"You get the door. I'll finish up here," Laura suggested.

He nodded and walked into the living room toward the front door. The door opened to Kara as she led Zachary into the cabin with her. Bill hugged her and then turned to his grandson. "What do you hear, Zachary?"

The boy stood at attention. "Nothing but the rain, sir."

"Then grab your gun and bring in the cat," his grandfather stated before mussing the boy's brown hair.

Zachary Lee Adama was five, with his father's brown hair and the Adama blue eyes. In his little hand he held a daffodil. "Look," he said, holding the flower up.

Bill studied it through his glasses. "What have you got there?"

"This planet has so many strange flowers. Zachary found it on our walk here," Kara explained.

"It's for Grandma," Zachary mentioned. The yellow flower had six petals and a petal grouping that stuck out like a trumpet around the center of the flower.

"I'm sure she'll like it," Bill stated.

Kara and Zachary followed him into the kitchen where Laura had already set the table. She looked up at their guests. "We're having meatloaf and macaroni salad."

"Yummy!" Zachary exclaimed.

"Sounds good to me," Kara responded as everyone sat.

Then Zachary stuck his little arm across the table, showing Laura the flower. "For you, Grandma."

Laura smiled and took the flower. "Thank you. It's beautiful. I'll put it in some water."

The small group chatted as they ate. "Has Zachary found any playmates?" Bill inquired.

Kara nodded. "He's got a few in preschool. He was even teaching some of them how to draw a viper with chalk. Dani Tigh has him beat though. She's a regular little artist."

"Saul's told me as much. Says he lets her draw outside because she uses up all his paper. Caprica just thinks it's funny when Saul gets flustered," Bill remarked.

"Caprica is good at picking names though. 'Daniella' is a nice name for their daughter," _Laura stated. I'm glad those two have finally found peace with what they are as well as each other. It took three years to get them married_.

While the adults had been talking, no one had noticed that Zachary was trying to get his own macaroni salad. As he attempted to dish up a helping, some of it plopped onto the table instead of his plate. "Frak," he stated.

All three adults turned to stare at him. Kara shook her head. "Zachary Leland Adama, I told you we don't use that word."

The boy frowned and looked down at the mess he had made. "Sorry, Mama."

Bill looked at Kara, giving her a smirk. "I wonder where he learned that one from."

She blushed. "I've been trying to cut back, really. I never realized what kids pick up on."

"Yes, they do learn far more than we ever want them to at times," Laura mentioned as she stood. "I'll clean up the mess."

Later Kara and Zachary chased butterflies around the yard. Laura and Bill watched from the railing. "He reminds me so much of Lee. Even as young as he is, he's already thinking of Vipers," Bill remarked.

Laura looped her right arm through his left. "It's nice to have a memento of him like this, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Bill replied, sighing wistfully.

"And I think Lee would've been very proud of him," she added.

Bill looked from Kara and Zachary to Laura. "I think he would've been proud of all of us for how far we've come. Kara's turned out to be a good mother. And then there's you and me."

Laura smirked. "We have come a long way from a confused former school teacher and an irritable commander."

He was about to kiss her when Kara spoke up from the yard. "Hey, are you two gonna flirt over there all day, or are you going to come over here and see what Zachary found?"

Bill stole a kiss anyway. "I suppose we'd better see what they've got."

Laura giggled and followed him. They walked over to Zachary, who had his hands closed around something. Suddenly whatever he held made a sound that caused him to jump and drop it back onto the ground. "Why Zachary, you've found a frog," Laura told him.

The boy looked up at her. "What's it do, Grandma?"

"I think your grandfather and I have an encyclopedia. We can look it up together," Laura recommended.

"Okay. Maybe later we can catch more," Zachary suggested, causing the adults to laugh.

Kara took Zachary and they walked back inside, followed by Bill and Laura. "He'll probably try to save them now," Bill mentioned.

Laura nodded. "Saving the world one frog at a time. Soon it'll be galaxies."

Fin……………………………..

(A/N: The last line is in reference to Season One: "Captain Apollo, saving the world one galaxy at a time," I think. I've been trying to find the exact line, but failing miserably. Oh well).

(My thanks to voodooDRUG, Mamabella, SMCKI10, carolann, Mariel3, and Ms. McGonagall for reviewing :D)


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